


Hold me tight

by murmeltearding



Series: Hold me [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Assault, Blood, Comfort, Cookies, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fear, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Killing, Language, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Violence, Self-Harm, Smut, Suicide Attempt, Threats, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Vegetables, Walkers (Walking Dead), Weapons, Women Being Awesome, dealing with past Issues, lovers being ripped apart, showering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23108929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murmeltearding/pseuds/murmeltearding
Summary: Clara lives with the Saviors. Her depression has made a comeback since she has run out of meds and she tries to deal with it on her own, believing noone gives a shit.Someone does give a shit though.
Relationships: Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Hold me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717609
Comments: 46
Kudos: 68





	1. Learning to trust again

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been struggling these past few weeks and the story popped into my head when I was feeling particularly lonely one night. Thinking about the scenarios and working on it in my head has helped me fall asleep a couple of nights this past week and I thought maybe it might comfort someone else as well.  
> Negan might act a bit ooc, but I needed him to act just like that for the sake of my story.  
> I know this sounds cheesy, but even if you don't believe it, someone always cares. xoxo

Getting up this morning had been incredibly hard; despite the uncomfortable cot I shared with my roommate, despite the trouble being late to work would get me in. I had struggled with depression and anxiety all my life. There were better times and worse ones. The past few weeks had set a new low, even by my standards.

Ever since I had been taken up by the Saviors, I had earned my keep by working in the kitchen. Not that I was a particularly good cook or anything, but they had been looking for help and I had been there. This was how the economy worked now.

I worked at my usual spot in the corner, peeling and cubing potatoes for dinner. The others were laughing about some inside joke I wasn’t in on. Not that I cared. I didn’t much like people… or thunderstorms for that matter. A particularly loud crack of thunder made me start and I hissed when the blade of my knife kissed my skin. Sticking my finger into my mouth I turned around to get a band aid… and froze.

Everyone in the kitchen was kneeling. Why…

Oh shit!

I swallowed and got down on my knees as well. Negan had just come inside with his right hand Simon in tow and his barbed wire wrapped bat on his shoulder, his fingers absently drumming against the grip, reminding everyone of what he was capable of.

What did they want? Had anyone fucked up their food? Negan wasn’t shouting so far, which could only be good, right?

He let his gaze wander over each of us and our eyes met when he came to me. Fuck. I dropped my gaze to the ground and hoped he would forget about me.

Squeezing my fist to stop the bleeding on my finger, I bent my head even lower, praying for the ground to swallow me whole.

The lack of noise in the kitchen was so unusual it added a dreamlike, surreal note to the situation. The kitchen was never quiet. There was always clanking and sizzling and things clanking against other things… Now, only the sound of footsteps resonated through the kitchen. Towards me? Please not towards me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, telling myself everything was fine. Nothing could happen to me. I was safe. Breathing in and out slowly, I counted the seconds inside my head.

“My, my, my, what happened there, pretty lady?” Negan’s voice was close. Too close for comfort.

I blinked my eyes open and looked up. He seemed incredibly tall from my perspective, where he was standing right in front of me. I wasn’t sure what he was referring to until I followed his line of sight to the floor.

A crimson puddle had formed under my left fist and blood kept dripping, making tiny splashes on the surrounding tiles with every drop.

“I…” I had to clear my throat before I could continue, “I cut myself.”

Negan gave a snort. “Figures… Get to your feet and let’s get you the fuck patched up,” he said, handing his bat to Simon and reaching for my right hand to pull me to my feet.

I took his hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice my shaking. If he did, he didn’t comment on it.

He steered me towards the exit with a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“I only need a band aid,” I muttered, trying to stop him from taking me out of the kitchen. I didn’t want to be alone with him.

“I’m no fucking doctor, but this looks deeper than a band aid could fix,” he said, grabbing a dishtowel in passing and wrapping it around my hand.

I watched his face as he did so and could tell the moment he noticed the scars up my forearm by the little frown he gave me. I self-consciously tried to cover them with my other hand but he held me tight, staring at me intently.

“You’re Clara,” he stated.

How did he know my name? I nodded.

“Come with me.” His tone of voice made clear it was healthier for me not to protest.

Turning to my coworkers in the kitchen, he told them to get the back to work. “We got a group of new arrivals and need to feed twenty more hungry mouths. Chop chop, motherfuckers!”

+++

“Leave us alone,” Negan said to Simon once we were out of earshot of the kitchen.

Simon had been silently following us and seemed as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He handed Lucille to Negan and walked off in the other direction.

I was winded after the second flight of stairs Negan led me up. He didn’t seem like he even noticed we were walking stairs and he didn’t slow down to let me catch my breath. It took me all of the long corridor on the fifth floor he lead me through until I was breathing normally again.

We stopped in front of the last door on the left. Negan pulled out a single key and unlocked it.

A small puddle had formed under the left corner of the window at the very end of the corridor and the rain pattering against it hard pressed more water inside. Drip, drip,…

Negan pushed me inside the room and closed the door behind us. Closed, not locked.

Looking around, I guessed this was Negan’s personal apartment.

“Sit,” he ordered, pointing me to a mismatched set of leather sofa and chairs to my right. He let go of me and watched as I went to sit down. Why had he brought me here?

Sitting brought my attention to the bed in the opposite corner. It was quite a bit bigger than the one I shared with my roommate… and he probably got to use it all by himself. I wanted to be angry about it, but he didn’t give me enough time to be.

“Did you do this to yourself?” Negan asked, sitting down on the chair to my right that faced the door. His gaze was fixed on me, switching between my face and my arm.

I swallowed. What did he want me to say? It was painfully obvious I had cut myself. I slowly nodded.

“Why?”

Self-harm didn’t really make sense. I didn’t know why I had done it. “I… I don’t know. To feel… something, I guess,” I muttered.

He moved from his chair to sit next to me and reached for my arm, pushing up the sleeve of my sweater to my elbow, before I stopped him. “How long have you been doing this?”

There was a colorful collection of scars on my arm, all the way up to my shoulder, some old, some fresher. There were more on my thighs, but I didn’t have to tell him that. “Since I was a teenager,” I truthfully said. “I stopped for a couple of years, but…”

“But you started again,” he finished for me.

I nodded, looking at the floor.

“Why?”

Why was he asking me all of those questions? He didn’t really care, did he?

“You don’t have to tell me, I’m not a fucking psychiatrist, but… you CAN tell me,” he shrugged.

He seemed… different than I thought he would be. “Why do you care?” I felt like a small child, avoiding the headmaster’s gaze after having done something bad.

“Because you’re one of mine and I care about what’s mine. You work for me in exchange for my protection, Clara.”

“But…”

“You’re suffering.”

I kept on staring at the floor. A dust bunny was just visible under the edge of the table but it vanished as silent tears made my vision blurry. “I ran out of meds,” I stated. I had intended to sound careless but my voice was shaky.

“What kind do you need? We have people scavenging all over.”

“No, they have them at the pharmacy, but I…” I sniffled, “I can’t afford them.”

“What the actual fuck?” he called out, sitting up straighter.

I tensed. I didn’t like men raising their voices.

“How much are they?” he asked, voice lowered to normal again.

“500 points last time I checked, 350 the week before that.” He must know prices were skyrocketing.

“How much before that?”

“They were 105 when I came here…” I said, my voice threatening to break. I moved backwards on the sofa and hugged my knees to my chest, grimacing when the movement made a scar from a couple days ago split open again.

Negan noticed immediately and took hold of my arm to assess the damage. “Hold still,” he said, getting up. He opened a door and I caught a glance of a bathroom sink and mirror.

When he came back, he carried a small first aid kit that he placed on the coffee table before me.

He put a band aid over the old cut before carefully unwrapping my hand. The bleeding had slowed down to a trickle. Negan took the dishtowel away and applied some disinfectant before expertly putting a pressure bandage on my finger. His hands were so gentle, I could hardly believe those were the same hands that punished criminals so harshly in the public executions he held every couple of weeks.

“You’ll get the meds,” he said fussing about with the bandages until he was satisfied. He got up and walked towards the sideboard that stood against the wall behind the chair he’d been sitting in.

I blinked at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s my fucking job to provide for my people.”

I watched as he poured himself a drink. What did he expect in exchange for the meds? I didn’t want to join his harem. I couldn’t bear the thought of sitting around all day, doing nothing, waiting for him to come home and choose me to be his wife of the day. I’d rather kill myself.

“You want some? It’s good shit!” He offered me his glass.

I shook my head.

“You want anything else? Food? Soda?”

What was he talking about? I didn’t have time for this. If I didn’t work, I didn’t earn points. “I should probably get back to the kitchen,” I said.

He dropped down next to me, on the sofa this time. “You get to take today off from your job. Tobias tells me good things about you.”

Why was my boss talking to Negan about me? When had they had a chance to talk?

“Relax!” He leaned back and crossed his legs, putting one arm on the backrest of the sofa.

I forced myself to lean back as well. It brought me closer to him than I liked.

“Don’t be scared. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Not today.” He took a sip from his drink before placing it back on the table.

I crossed my arms and tried making myself small.

“Tell me about yourself. What did you do when shit hit the fan?”

I didn’t like talking about myself. It made me feel awkward. And I didn’t want to tell him I had been hospitalized before all of this went down.

“I…” without really knowing why, I found myself talking. “I was in the hospital when I first heard of the outbreak.” In a mental hospital. “They had just gotten me a single room.” With nice and cozy walls and floors.

Negan watched me with a look of honest concern on his face. He actually seemed interested in what I had to say, not like most other people, just waiting for their turn to talk, so I continued. Not a thing I did often.

“I stayed in there for three days.” That’s how long it took me to come down from the meds they’d given me to sedate me and clear my head enough to figure out how to get out of the straightjacket they’d put me in. “The sounds I heard, the screams,…” and the knowledge I had no way to defend myself if whatever was out there found me… “I still hear the sometimes… in my nightmares, I mean.”

“Shit,” he said with feeling.

“There were so many corpses when I finally got out of there.” I sniffled. I hadn’t realized I’d started crying again.

“Fuck,” He took a long sip from his drink.

“Can… can I have one too?”

“Sure thing!” He got up and poured a second glass. “How did you survive?”

“I don’t know.” I had been so scared, it had felt like a three day panic attack and it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon, so I had rounded up all the meds I had found and taken much more than I had been supposed to. The first weeks were all a blur. I couldn’t tell what had been real and what had been psychoses. And I didn’t really want to know.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here now. You’re a fucking survivor!” Negan put a glass in front of me and I greedily took a sip. The booze made me cough but it warmed my belly.

Glass in hand, I pulled up my knees again and rested my chin on top, watching him.

“What are you looking at?” He smiled, faking self-consciousness. “Do I have something in my teeth?” He flashed me a broad grin, showing off his perfect, clean teeth.

“Just… Nobody has ever listened to that whole story. I never thought you’d be so nice,” I muttered.

“Nice?” He snorted. “No one has called me that in a while.”

“No one has given a shit about me in a while,” I shrugged.

“Fighting for survival turns people into fucking assholes.”

I nodded. I was a loner by nature. I wasn’t pretty or funny. My scars scared people. And I mostly didn’t mind. Crowds were the seventh circle of hell for me and gave me panic attacks. I enjoyed keeping to myself. But there were days when I desperately craved someone I could talk to, someone to hold me.

“You have any family left?” Negan asked before the silence grew too heavy.

I shook my head. “I was raised by my grandma… she died when I was sixteen. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“Damn, that’s tough.”

I shrugged. I hadn’t known anything else.

A knock on the door made Negan look up. “What is it?”

“Boss,” Simon said, opening the door, “we got an emergency downstairs, with the new arrivals.”

Negan took a deep breath and got to his feet. “Can’t a man have a fucking drink in peace?” And turning back to me: “Listen, I got to take care of that shit. You stay here, make yourself at home, relax. If you need anything, tell the fucker outside. Read, nap, get drunk for all I care,” he pointed at the respective areas in his apartment, indicating bookshelves, his bed, the “minibar”, “fucking pamper yourself, you understand? I’ll be back in an hour with your meds, just write down what you need.” He pushed a piece of paper and a pencil towards me.

Each of his suggestions made me more and more uncomfortable. “How am I going to pay for all that?” I asked, slowly reaching for the paper and writing down the names of the last meds I’d been on.

“You won’t fucking pay for any of it. You’re my fucking guest.”

I swallowed. “Okay...”

He seemed satisfied with my answer and, taking my note, moved towards the door. “If you want anything special for dinner, tell that fucker.” Turning to the “fucker” he’d indicated he gave his order a second time, just to make sure. “If she needs anything, you give it to her, even if she fucking wants your kidney, you got me?” he said. “Treat her like you’d treat your fucking little sister!”

“Yes, Sir,” the guard answered.

Negan shot me one last look and closed the door.

What the actual fuck? This was the most surreal thing that had happened to me in a long time. I remained where I was for a couple more minutes, gazing at the door, half wishing Negan would come back, but finally I dared to move. The bookshelf had a couple of classics but neither of them seemed particularly interesting. I also didn’t want to get drunk all by myself. The door to the bathroom was still open and I slipped inside. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean, which was much more than could be said about the communal bathrooms downstairs. I took a quick shower and put my pants and shirt back on. The clothes made me feel grimy and dirty again the moment they touched my skin but I only got the one set for the week and I didn’t want to wait for Negan naked.

I was one of the few ones to only have one roommate. We had been paired up because neither of us had any family or anyone else to room with, but we had to share a cot and Lissa never stopped stirring all night long which made it almost impossible to get a decent night’s sleep. Here it was quiet and didn’t reek of damp and mold, so I grabbed one of the blankets from the bed and made myself comfortable on the sofa.

The damp scent of a recent shower hung in the air and it had gotten dark outside when I next opened my eyes. I looked around, confused, taking a moment to remember where the hell I was.

Negan sat in the armchair next to my head with a book on his lap and his feet crossed on the coffee table. A small standing lamp to his right lit up the room in a warm, orange glow.

I sat up and rubbed my face.

“Sleep well?” Negan asked, looking up from his book. He wore only his shirt and pants. His leather jacket hung over the back of his chair.

“What time is it?” I stretched my shoulders and looked towards the window. It was still raining, but not quite as hard as it had earlier.

“Late. Dinner ended an hour ago.” He dog-eared the corner of the page he’d been reading and closed the book, putting it on the table.

“Fuck. I should get back downstairs and help with the cleaning!” I untangled myself from the blanket and made to get up.

“Stay,” Negan said.

It didn’t quite sound like an order, but something in his voice made me obey and sit back down.

“Did you mean it when you did that?” He motioned at my left elbow crease, to a deeper scar, still colored in a dark crimson. My sweater usually hid it, but it was out of reach on the edge of the second chair.

I glanced in the direction as if I could make it fly to me with the power of my mind.

“Waiting…” Negan calmly reminded me.

“Yes,” I admitted, not meeting his gaze.

“Why?”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Always with the questions. “Because life is shit,” I truthfully said.

“Yes,” he agreed.

I waited for him to elaborate or tell me the world was so much better with me in it, like everyone always did, but he didn’t.

“Yes, it is,” he repeated as if I hadn’t understood, “for everyone these days. I mean, look out there…” He pointed at the window. “Just wondering why you’re the only one brave enough to try to escape it.”

Alright, that was new. No one had ever asked me that before. “I don’t know… probably because everyone else is a coward?”

“Let me tell you something, Clara. You’re right about one thing. Everyone IS a fucking coward. Every time my men and I go out there, to the other side of that fence, each of them knows they could die. They are scared. Hell, sometimes even I am scared. Neither of us wants to fucking die. But we do this for you and all the other fuckers downstairs. To keep you fed, to keep you fucking safe.”

I didn’t know how he managed to look so much taller, simply by moving forward and putting his elbows on his knees, but he did.

“So if you try to kill yourself one fucking more time…” He gripped my wrist, hard, “I will finish what you fucking started and it will be neither quick nor painless, do you fucking understand me?”

I nodded, blinking back tears.

He pulled an orange pillbottle from his jacket pocket and slammed it on the table with a clatter. “So take those fucking meds and get the fuck better! And if I see one more intentional cut on those arms of yours… or on your legs or anywhere else you decide to fucking hurt yourself, I will make you regret it.”

I blinked some more, but there were too many tears to hold them back and they started flowing down my cheeks. Silent sobs shook me.

“Why are you fucking crying? If you behave, the two of us are going to be good friends. And you plan to fucking behave, right?” He let go of me and leaned back, seeming calm and unbothered and not as if he’d just threatened to kill me slowly and painfully. As quickly as his anger had come, it was gone again, just like that.

My tummy chose the moment of silence to rumble, loudly.

“You hungry?” Negan asked.

Was I hungry? I hadn’t thought about that question for a while. Usually I just ate whatever was left in the kitchen after dinner. If nothing was left, I didn’t eat. Eating because I was hungry… I slowly nodded.

“You like steak?”

I frowned. In all the time I’d worked in the kitchen I’d never had steak. I couldn’t remember ever having prepared it either.

Negan got up and opened the door. “A steak and some fucking pie,” he ordered. “Wine?” He shot me a questioning glance over his shoulder.

I nodded. It had been a while since I’d had any good wine. The stuff we had downstairs wasn’t for pleasure as much as for getting drunk.

Negan closed the door and we were alone again, his full attention focused on me. He handed me a handkerchief from the top drawer of his dresser that had probably started its life as a dress shirt judging by the fabric.

I blew my nose and wiped my tears.

He waited patiently, watching over me as if his outbreak five minutes ago hadn’t happened.

“Can I ask you a question?” I whispered, sitting up straighter.

He shrugged, which I chose to take as a yes.

“Why do you act…” I didn’t know how to express my thoughts exactly, “like you do?” I said with a shrug.

He silently put his legs back on the table.

“I mean… it’s as if there are two people inside your head. Which one is the real you?”

“Who knows, huh?” He crossed his legs one over the other and made a hammock with his hands behind his head, looking the picture of relaxation.

“Do you like people to be scared of you?” I asked, slower.

He let his arms drop down again and sat up straighter. “I don’t fucking enjoy it but what do you think would happen if people weren’t scared of me?”

I nodded to myself. He had a point there.

Another question popped into my head and I figured he was in a talkative mood, so I asked it as well. “Why did you come to the kitchen today?” It couldn’t have been a coincidence. I’d never seen him in the kitchen before.

“What do you think?” he countered, watching me intently.

“I don’t know; that’s why I’m asking.”

“Do you know two people tried to kill themselves last month?”

Alright, seemed like I wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of him. “I know of the one in the laundry.” He had succeeded.

“I ordered all my chiefs to tell me if anyone seemed like they wanted to fucking end their own fucking lives.”

“So…” I swallowed. “You were there for me?”

He nodded. “Tobias told on you.”

No, that couldn’t be it. I hugged myself under the blanket. Tobias had noticed I was feeling bad. I hadn’t thought anyone would. I took a couple deep breaths while staring at the table before me.

“Will the meds do the trick?” Negan pulled me back into the real life.

“They did last time,” I muttered.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

I couldn’t wrap my mind around how gentle he was. How was this possible? I had seen him burn people’s faces off with a fucking iron.

“You better use your chance. Tonight, I’m at your disposal.”

I looked up at him. That had sounded…

“I won’t do anything you don’t ask me to, Clara.” My confusion must have shown on my face.

I focused back on the table and buried myself deeper in the blanket.

“You want me to leave you alone? Fine by me,” he shrugged and reached for his book again.

Alright, it was now or never. “Canyouholdme?” I blurted out, mouth hidden under the blanket.

“What was that?”

“Hold me… like…” I whispered.

“You want me to hold you,” he stated.

I shyly looked up at him, barely allowing myself to meet his gaze, “if… if you don’t mind, I mean…”

“I told you I’m at your fucking disposal.” He moved from his chair to the sofa and put his arm around my blanketed self.

Swallowing, I moved towards him, stiffly sitting next to him.

“Is that what you wanted?” Negan said.

“I mean…” I couldn’t tell him I wanted him to hold me really tight. I just couldn’t. He’d tell me to fuck off, I was sure.

“You mean?”

“Nothing,” I dismissively shook my head and moved away from him again. I couldn’t do this.

“I can’t give you what you want if you won’t fucking tell me. You women always expect me to fucking read your minds…”

There was a knock at the door that saved me from having to answer him.

A plate with a huge steak and a heap of the vegetable stew we served downstairs on the side were brought in by his guard. I snorted when he pulled a bottle of red wine from his jacket pocket. His annoyed glance shut me up and I focused on Negan instead, who was setting up the coffee table for my meal. Not exactly the fancy way to eat, but this was the apocalypse. I wouldn’t be choosy.

The guard left again and I got up to place the blanket back on the bed before eating.

The food was incredibly good. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so full. Negan kept our wineglasses filled and I started to get a bit lightheaded but also a lot more relaxed.

I made myself comfortable on the sofa again, leaning back and enjoying the slight buzz.

“So,” Negan said once the table was cleaned except for the wine glasses.

I lifted my head to look at him.

“You still want to be held?”

In a second my relaxation was gone. Of course I still wanted to be held. But was I drunk enough to ask for it? And if I asked him to hold me, did that entail he would want to do more than just that? I still couldn’t believe he would do all this out of the goodness of his heart.

Negan patted the space next to him and I looked at it as if the sofa cushion might bite me.

Without knowing exactly why or how, I found myself moving. Moving so close our thighs touched.

He put his arm around my back again and pulled me against him, against his chest. He felt nice and warm and he smelled good, but I couldn’t let myself go… or could I? He put his second arm around me and embraced me. Alright, this was seriously comfortable.

My body relaxed against his without conscious thought. A soft sigh made its way from my throat and I froze. That had been embarrassing.

Negan didn’t react in the slightest. Had he even heard?

He leaned back and pulled me with him. “You comfortable?” he asked, his mouth close to my head.

I wiggled around a bit and he reached for my legs and pulled them up on his lap. What the fuck was happening? I mean… I was comfortable, but… was this okay for him?

“Are you?” I said just to say anything.

“Sure fucking thing.” He patted my thigh a bit before stopping himself. “You want me to stop, you just tell me.”

I nodded. But I didn’t want him to stop. This was nice. I was warm and comfortable and I felt oddly secure. His arms around me felt nice. I snuggled against him deeper and closed my eyes. When was the last time anyone had held me like that? I couldn’t remember if it had ever even happened.

“It’s okay,” I muttered, putting my hand on top of his on my thigh.

He pulled his hand out from under me and I was sure he would tell me this was enough and to leave his apartment. Instead, he put my hand on his chest and his on my thigh.

“It must be years since the last time I just held a woman like this…” he slowly said. His voice had an almost dreamy quality to it.

“Is that… a good thing?”

I felt him nod against me. “Reminds me of better times.”

The knowledge he enjoyed this as well pulled the last of the tension I was holding out of me. I fully relaxed against him, sighing with pleasure.

“You have to stop doing this though or I can’t make any promises,” he stated.

I stiffened. “Wh… what?”

“That little noise you make… it’s hot as hell.”

Had he really just said that? Why did he have to say that? Now I was thinking about sex. Was he thinking about sex? Fuck!

“Relax. I won’t do anything you don’t ask me to,” he repeated his earlier promise.

Did he want to have sex with me? It wasn’t that I didn’t like sex, it was just… I also didn’t really get what the fuss was about. It was something I endured, not something I enjoyed.

“What are you worrying about? You’re all tense again.”

“Just…,” I swallowed, “sex…”

That made him laugh. Why did this make him laugh? “Forget about this. Having sex with you now, while you’re all drunk and crying… I don’t do that shit. I got five fucking wives to fuck, but not a one of them ever asked me to hold her.”

I swallowed. I really hoped that was a good thing.

He let his hand glide from my back up to my arm and gently stroked his thumb over my skin. I closed my eyes and tried to relax again. I had asked him to hold me. He was being a perfect gentleman. I had to stop worrying so much. He wouldn’t break his promise. I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew. I took a deep exhale and readjusted my head against his chest.

His heart beat slow and regular inside his chest. It was calming, relaxing. I was warm and my stomach was full and I even felt mostly clean. Life was good… for the moment.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, when Negan stirred under me. I might have dozed off, or I mightn’t have.

My eyes went wide, when Negan got up and took me with him, carrying me on his arms. He almost dropped me, when I struggled against him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m an old man. My fucking back will kill me in the morning if we fall asleep there.“ He carefully set me down on the bed and moved to unbuckle his pants. He didn’t seem to mind me watching.

Okay, now was the moment he would make me have sex with him. I braced myself. Would he be gentle? Or would he just… fuck.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You seen a fucking ghost or something?”

“Please don’t hurt me,” I whispered.

His fingers stopped moving and he looked at me earnestly, crouching down so we were at eyelevel. “Why would I?”

“Men usually do… once the clothes come off.”

“You must have met a lot of fucking assholes in your time,” he stated, taking my hand.

“I…”

“I will not hurt you tonight, cross my heart and hope to die,” he promised again. “Door’s unlocked. You can leave whenever you want.”

I looked between him and the door. My breathing had sped up without my noticing.

“You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you, like the fucking gentleman I am. My apologies if anything I did scared you.”

I swallowed. “And you won’t change your mind halfway through the night?”

He shook his head. “I’m a man of my fucking word, ask whoever you want.”

“Okay then,” I whispered.

“Who hurt you so badly?”

I didn’t want to talk about it. I had never told anyone, not a single soul… “Do you want chronological or alphabetical?” I sighed.

Negan sighed as well. “Anyone since you been here?”

I shook my head.

“If anyone ever touches you, you come to me and fucking tell me, you understand?”

I nodded.

“I will take off my pants, can’t fucking sleep in jeans, but I will leave it at that if it makes you feel better,” he said, getting to his feet again.

Okay, just his pants. I could live with that. Everything was good. Nothing bad would happen. Deep breaths.

“You want that fucker out there to fetch you your pajamas?”

I shook my head. I didn’t even own pajamas.

“You want to sleep by the wall or by the door?”

“Wall,” I said, getting up so he could get into bed.

He stepped out of his pants and waited.

“I… can I turn off the light before…”

He shrugged. “Whatever makes you feel safe.” He made himself comfortable under the blanket and I switched off the standing lamp before quickly pulling off my pants as well and joining him in bed.

I wasn’t scared exactly, but also not entirely relaxed. Maybe I should have taken the side by the door. I could escape faster if I had to. Fuck.

Draping the blanket over myself and consciously reminding myself to keep breathing calmly, I tried to get comfortable.

Negan moved beside me and the bed creaked under his weight. I turned on my back and almost sighed again, so comfortable was the mattress. How would I ever be able to sleep on my cot again? And the pillow was so soft… and didn’t smell of unwashed person or mold… and not even if I strained my ears could I hear critters anywhere. Realizing all that, I couldn’t hold back my sigh… and slapped my hands over my mouth.

Negan chuckled next to me.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

Negan didn’t say anything, just patted the spot next to him again. “Come here,” he said.

My first instinct was to move farther away, but he had promised three times now. I could trust him… I hoped. And even if I couldn’t, he was much stronger than me. And I didn’t have a weapon. It was too late.

I moved towards him and his hand found my arm in the darkness. His touch was gentle. A silent tear of relief rolled down my cheek and I hastily wiped it away.

“Come here,” Negan repeated and pulled me so my head came to rest against his chest, his arm under my neck. He was warm and each of his touches was soft and deliberate. I put my arm on his chest and snuggled against him, relaxing. He wouldn’t hurt me. That feeling inside of me, of falling apart, of being all alone in the world, it was gone. It might come back, but for now, it was all gone.

His hand on my back gently caressed my waist while the other held on to my upper arm.

I pulled my top leg up. I wanted to be even closer. Even more inside the blanket of warmth and safety he emanated.

His hand moved down to my thigh and caressed my naked skin there. He must feel the ridges of my old scars but he didn’t say anything, he just held me, as I had asked him to.

For tonight, nothing but the here and now mattered; the beating of his heart against my ear, the soft rise and fall of his chest, his breath tickling my hair. Tonight, nothing could happen to me. And that was all that counted.


	2. Learning to keep a deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people don't like Clara finding a friend in Negan... and they show her how much they don't like it.   
> Negan reacts different than Clara expected, which brings them closer together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't really planned on this getting more than one chapter, but seems like my brain wasn't quite done with soft, fluffy Negan... For now, I think there'll be 3 chapters of this (the next one is already partly written), but who knows what's going to happen...

Lissa had been ecstatic about my having spent the night with someone. Negan hadn’t allowed me to tell anyone I had been with him, so I had had to leave her in the dark about that, but rumors started their way through the sanctuary soon enough.

Because really, what else was there to do without TV?

People in the kitchen didn’t bother asking many questions. They accepted my coming back to work the next day and went on with their lives. I caught the odd sideways glance here and there and whispered conversations that abruptly stopped when I came into the room, but that might also be my anxiety.

A couple of days later, I was the last one in the kitchen after a long day of work. The much-loved trash duty had fallen to me that night. I had just finished locking up, when a guard halted. Guards were allowed to stop people at random, to search for contraband or just go on everyone’s nerves. They usually were in pairs though. This one was all alone.

He plucked the keyring from my hand before I could protest.

“Come on…” he ordered, grabbing my arm and leading me away from the exit and towards the storage area. “In there.” He unlocked one of the storage rooms, seemingly at random and opened the door.

I didn’t move. This felt wrong. This felt so incredibly, immeasurably wrong, I couldn’t put it into words.

“What are you waiting for?” He shoved me into the room and closed the door behind us. Crates of fresh vegetables filling the shelves gave the room a fresh, earthy smell.

“What do you want?” I asked, moving away from him. This couldn’t be happening again! Not here!

“Don’t you remember me, bitch?” he countered.

I looked at him, trying to make out his face in the low light. There was something familiar about him, but I had never been very good with faces. I slowly shook my head while moving backwards, farther into the room. “You must confuse me with someone,” I muttered. “I have one of those faces.”

“I served you dinner a couple days ago, remember now? Or is your brain so fucked up on pills you can’t even think back that far?”

I frowned at him. Yes, my brain was pretty fucked up, but all he had done was serving me food… or had I missed something big there? In all honesty, he was such a minor detail from that day, I couldn’t really say if I had done anything to offend him.

“Waiting on fucking junkies so wasn’t what I signed up for... if it wasn’t for that asshole Negan, we’d feed useless people like you to the Walkers for dinner… But I got a much more entertaining idea,” he cackled.

Alright, now I knew what I had missed. There was something wrong with his brain as well; and judging by the way he’d just called me a junkie for taking medication, I guessed he didn’t take any himself. Which was probably bad… I just didn’t know yet who it was worse for… him or me.

My back touched the shelves on the back wall of the room. My hand came away wet from a crate of fresh lettuce behind me. I frantically scanned the walls left and right for weapons, but there were only vegetables. If he didn’t have an allergy to carrots, I was in big shit.

“Nowhere to go now, huh?” the guard continued his mad laughter. Good thing at least one of us had fun. He closed the distance between us with a few quick steps and no matter how hard I pressed myself against the shelves, they didn’t open up and let me through.

A knife appeared in his hand and I knew I was in over my head.

Out of pure instinct I crouched down, protecting my face and head with my arms. This brought me to eyelevel with his crotch and my body simply reacted. I punched as hard as I could and was incredibly proud of myself for about five seconds as he stepped backwards, howling with pain.

Then he caught himself.

He advanced towards me much faster than before and grabbed my wrist, hard, twisting it and forcing me to get up and turn around so my face was pressed against today’s zucchini harvest. All my punch had achieved was to make him angry. And now he had me from behind.

I waited for him to reach for my belt and hoped he’d be quick to finish, but his hands never came around me. The much too familiar sensation of a blade cutting through my skin made me hiss.

I couldn’t think of a single time anyone but myself had cut me. It was familiar, but at the same time it wasn’t. This felt much more intense… And he did it again and again. Blood flowed down my arm and hand and fingers and dripped to the floor.

The flow was quick. The cuts must be deep.

Did he want to bleed me out? I was confused and scared. What had I ever done to him to deserve whatever he thought he was doing?

I waited for something else to happen, but it didn’t.

As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone again. I turned around and heard the click of the lock as the key was turned from the outside.

I was locked… in a small, claustrophobia inducing room… I did my best to swallow down my rising anxiety. This was an entirely different situation. I could use my arms and hands and there were people outside, not Walkers. Everything was fine. Someone would soon find me.

I pulled my apron over my head and wrapped it around my bleeding arm. He had given me a couple deep cuts on the inside of my arm. They hurt, but I didn’t think they’d kill me.

Now how did I get out of this room?

Pushing my ear against the door, I strained to hear if anyone was outside. It was all quiet. I bumped my fist against the wood a couple of times and shouted before listening again. Still quiet. Yea, it would stay like that for a while. Nobody ever went into the kitchen during the night. Last one to leave locked the door…

+++

I was woken by the sound of the key turning.

Tobias seemed confused. “What are you doing in here?” Then he saw the blood. “Are you okay?”

I slowly nodded and tried to get to my feet. Everything seemed to twist and turn. My right arm throbbed. “I got locked in.”

Tobias pulled me to my feet and looked me up and down. I felt the blood crust on my face where I had touched myself and I knew my shirt was a mess as well. My apron was soaked through. I was dizzy, my back hurt and my throat was parched.

Tobias wasn’t one for showing a lot of feelings. I was talking and on my feet, so I must be okay. “I’ll have to tell Negan,” he said.

I nodded. I knew how this must look… the suicidal girl all bloody and alone in a dark storage room… Negan would kill me.

My head spun. I hated to admit it, but I was glad for Tobias’ arm around my waist, keeping me upright as he walked me out of the kitchen area.

People were coming in for the morning shift and stared at us with looks of horror on their faces.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Infirmary. You’re bleeding all over the floor,” Tobias courtly said. He didn’t seem angry exactly, but he definitely wasn’t happy. I couldn’t blame him for that.

The doctor didn’t seem happy either. That made three of us.

I liked Dr. Sam. She had been a vet before all of this had started and I had taken the kitchen cats to her a couple of times when they’d gotten hurt.

She carefully unwrapped my arm and cleaned the cuts. Two of them were surrounded with angry red flesh. Maybe wrapping my dirty apron around my arm hadn’t been the best idea.

“Did you do this to yourself?” Dr. Sam asked.

I shook my head.

“Yea, didn’t think so,” she said. She didn’t look me in the eyes but remained focused on my arm as she spread something that suspiciously looked and smelled like honey on the cuts. “I’m not the best with people, but… if you want to talk, I’m here,” she said. “Whatever you’ll say will stay between us, but I’ll have to report this happened. Do you know the name of whoever did it? Did they hurt you… anyhow else?”

I shook my head again. “Tobias took care of the reporting, I think…” Negan would be here soon. I could practically feel it. If he came to the conclusion I had done this to myself, I was in deep shit.

“Okay, good,” Dr. Sam said. She dressed my arm slowly but carefully and gave my left hand a quick glance.

I balled my fist to hide my palm. That one was all on me. And if she’d noticed, Negan would notice too.

Long, heavy footsteps on the corridor made me cringe. Was it getting warmer in here?

Dr. Sam looked up as Negan entered and gave a quick curtsey, not letting go of my still unfinished bandage.

I didn’t dare look up and kept my gaze firmly on my feet.

Negan circled us once and then silently leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching Dr. Sam do her job. He very calmly told her to leave us alone once she was done.

I remained sitting on the examination table, cradling my injured arm and waited for him to start shouting.

He didn’t.

I slowly got uncomfortable and shyly looked up at him, not daring to meet his eyes. He watched me watch him, unmoving, seemingly calm.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I finally asked.

“So you can tell me what you think I want to hear go on doing what you want anyhow?” he said.

I swallowed. That wasn’t true! I had really meant it when I’d promised him not to hurt myself anymore. These were special circumstances. Last night didn’t count.

“I…” What did I even want to say?

“You?”

“I didn’t do this,” I motioned to my arm.

“I know.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“This,” he stepped towards me and reached for my left hand, bending my fingers open to reveal the long, crude cut on my palm. I had pulled a staple from one of the veggie crates and, drawing it over my skin again and again, cut my hand with it.

“I… I was locked in a tiny room, all alone, all night long… I was under a lot of stress,” I tried explaining.

“We had a deal.” He didn’t let go of my hand.

“This was special circumstances! You can’t hold this against me… please…” His calm demeanor scared me more than screaming might have.

He looked me in the eyes, silent, unmoving, seemingly unblinking.

I might have lost myself in the hazel darkness under different circumstances but my mind was racing. “Have you ever been a smoker?” I asked.

Negan nodded.

“And you never crave a cigarette when you’re stressed?”

“I get what you’re saying, Clara. The thing is simply this: You and I, we had a deal.” His grip on my hand got stronger. Not enough to hurt, but enough to underline his words.

“What else should I have done?” I wanted to run away. I wanted to hide somewhere dark and quiet.

“Literally anything but this,” he said. He let go of my hand and crossed his arms again.

I suddenly felt tiny, compared to him. “So, what will be my punishment?”

“Who did this?”

“That guy that brought my food the other day…” I slowly said. Where was he going with this?

“He will meet the iron. You will be there, first row.”

“No!” He couldn’t be serious!

“Excuse you?” His eyebrows pulled upwards.

“Please don’t make me!”

“You need to know what happens to people who can’t hold up deals.”

I sniffled. I didn’t want to watch him iron someone’s face.

“This will hurt me almost as much as it will hurt you, Clara,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders.

“No it won’t,” I shrugged him off and hopped off the examination table, bringing some distance between us and crossing my arms defensively.

“Do you think I fucking enjoy hurting people? What do you expect me to do?” He mirrored my gesture and leaned his hip against the table.

“I don’t know… tell me not to do it again and let it go?” I drew my arms closer until I almost hugged myself.

“That is not how I rule.”

I knew he was right, but… my sigh turned into a whimper halfway through.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms.

I hated myself for how much I wanted to be held in this moment. The thought how secure I had felt with him, how warm, how comforted, made me give in. His arms closed around my back and instantly I felt better.

This conversation had gone a lot different than I’d expected. I had banked on him screaming and raging, maybe even hitting me, but talking calmly and punishing me like this…

He squeezed me tighter and put his chin on top of my head. This felt so wrong yet so right at the same time.

“Does it hurt?” Negan asked.

Sniffling, I shook my head. “No longer…”

“Good. That fucker Zack will be dealt with. Today. Don’t worry about him. Tell Tobias I gave you today off and stay in your room.” He let go of me and took a step back.

My room. Not his…

“I will be out most of the day, but you can come join me in my apartment in the evening,” he added in a lower voice. “Make sure no one sees you come in.”

+++

My arm made it hard to find a comfortable position on our cot. Lissa was out, working in the gardens, so I had the room to myself. It was quiet and uncomfortable, as it always was.

Lissa had stuck a picture of her family to her end of the cot. I had never had a family, but looking at hers and listening to the stories told me all the time made her family feel a little like mine. My biological grandma would say nothing to this fucked up situation. She’d just do what she’d always done: pour herself another brandy.

Lissa’s family would tell me everything wasn’t as bad as it seemed and to keep on looking at the bright side.

Keeping to their advice I managed to sleep for a couple of hours and spent the rest of the day reading and trying to keep my mind away from Negan.

I didn’t know how I felt about him. I was looking forward to seeing him so much, it bordered on ridiculous. At the same time I dreaded my punishment. I didn’t deserve having to watch Zack’s face getting burned off. It was unfair! All I had done was react to my stress in the only way I knew how to. It wasn’t my fault society deemed my coping mechanism wrong.

When it started getting dark outside, I got restless. Was he back already? I caught myself glancing in the mirror and trying to fix my hair and face much too often, brushing and braiding my hair just to rebraid it a minute later. I should have had a shower before meeting him but I guessed it would be bad to get the bandage wet and I couldn’t put a plastic bag over it without any help.

I got dressed and was on my way to the mess hall when my feet decided otherwise and carried me upstairs. Wasn’t it too early? My anxiety grew with every step I took and by the fourth floor I had almost convinced myself I had made up his invitation. He wouldn’t want me staying with him again. That didn’t make any sense… or did it?

“You lost or something?” a male voice said behind me.

I turned and stared into Simon’s moustached face. He stood a couple steps below me and I couldn’t help but notice the balding spot at the top of his head. “Is… Negan told me to come see him in the evening. Is he back yet?”

Simon checked me out from head to toe before answering. “You sure he invited you? Don’t look his type…”

“Umm… yea, no… I… I should probably get back downstairs…”

“Yea, I think so too…” Simon agreed and stepped to the side to let me pass.

“Where are you going?” Negan appeared from around the corner, broadly grinning at me. He was so tall, even standing two steps above him I could meet his eyes only looking down a little bit. They sparkled with joy. He must have had a good day.

“She got lost,” Simon answered for me.

“It’s the fifth floor,” Negan said, turning me around by the shoulders and pushing me upstairs before him.

Simon raised his eyebrows at Negan, but remained quiet. Smart man.

“Don’t let anyone keep you from going where you want to go,” Negan said once we were on the right floor.

If only he knew the person who’d really kept me was me.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and held it open for me.

I stepped inside and it was as if his closing the door shut down my anxiety. I felt myself relax and dropped to the sofa. He really wanted me with him. I hadn’t imagined it. He turned the key, but left it in the lock. I could leave if I wanted to but nobody would be able to interrupt us.

“You look happy,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it over the back of his chair.

“I was about to say the same.” I watched him as he went through his room, getting comfortable, pouring himself a drink.

“You want some too?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Can’t… the meds…”

He nodded. “Right.” He heavily sat down and leaned back, putting his feet up on the table, watching me.

Feeling bold, I moved against him and pulled his arm around my shoulder, getting comfortable against him.

Negan huffed. “That how it is now?”

I sat up straighter again and turned my head to see his face. “I… sorry?”

He huffed once more and pulled me back against him. “I was looking forward to this all day,” he muttered against the back of my head.

“You were?”

I felt him nod.

I blinked a couple times to stop my eyes from overflowing. I was… wanted.

“Told ya, reminds me of how things used to be… my wife…” A knock on the door interrupted him. “The fuck you want?”

“Food’s here,” a female voice sung.

“I’m sorry,” he said and got to his feet.

I felt awfully cold without his warmth.

“Why did you have me bring it?” A beautiful woman in a tight black dress walked in, carrying two plates of lasagna. She saw me and froze. She clearly hadn’t expected anyone else in Negan’s apartment.

“Because you used to be a waitress and still know how to carry plates, I imagine,” Negan said, taking the plates from her and putting them on the table.

“Who’s she?” The woman pointed at me as if there was any confusion who she was talking about.

“Clara, meet Sherry, Sherry, Clara,” Negan said, obviously wanting her to leave as quickly as possible.

“Another one? Aren’t five wives enough?” She stared down at me, hands on her hips, scrutinizing.

Was I supposed to say anything? Should I get up? Tell her I didn’t intend to marry Negan?

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.” Negan put his hands on her hips and pushed her out the door, slapping her butt before he pushed the door closed.

Alright, that hadn’t been weird at all…

“Eat! You’re too skinny,” he said, sitting down next to me again.

I looked at him for a moment longer before reaching for my plate. That woman had been beautiful; curves in all the right places, legs that seemed to go on forever, no discernible scars. What did he want with me when he could be with her instead?

“Don’t worry about her. She’s hot but stupid. She won’t remember your face in an hour,” Negan said.

I snorted. He couldn’t be serious, could he?

“What’s funny?”

I shook my head. “Just… this… us… what we’re doing here…”

“Nothing funny about that. She knows she’s fucking hot. Nothing much inside her head besides that. She wouldn’t survive out there for a minute.”

“So you saved her?”

“If you want to call it that,” he shrugged, putting a bite of Lasagna in his mouth.

So that was his deal? Saving people? Was that why he wanted me here with him? My heart fell. This wasn’t about me at all. This was about him wanting to live out his saviors’ complex.

I slowly continued eating, but didn’t really taste anything. After another bite I put the plate away. “I should probably go.”

Negan looked up from his food, seeming confused. “Why?”

“I don’t know, just… this feels odd.” I moved to get up, but Negan placed a gentle hand on my knee.

“Because of Sherry? Forget about her!”

“Am I another one of your projects? Someone you need to save?” I couldn’t believe I had really just said that. To Negan of all people.

“The hell you get that from?” He got up and refilled his drink.

“Just… I don’t know…” I leaned back again and pulled my knees to my chest. What was I doing?

“You can leave anytime, you know that. Key’s in the lock.”

Please ask me to stay! Please! I wanted to slap myself for my constant need of reassurance, but that was how this stupid illness worked.

He took a sip and sat down again, heavily. “But that would be fucking shit! You walking out of here, when we both know we could spend our time together, so much more pleasantly…” He licked his lips and put his glass on the table, watching me.

I put my feet on the floor again. He wanted me here. I wanted to be here. So why did I even think twice about this? I pulled my plate towards me again and cut off another bite.

“So you gonna stay?” Negan asked.

I nodded. “Only as long as you want me…”

“Seems fair.”

We finished eating and he helped me tape a plastic bag over my bandage so I could have a shower. The private bathroom was a definite upside to being friends with Negan.

By the time I finished, a fresh set of clothes waited for me and Negan had stripped to his waist.

I did my best not to look at him, but failed miserably. His flat chest was speckled with black and grey hair and a washed out tattoo on his right upper arm drew the gaze.

Negan either pretended he didn’t notice my glances or he really didn’t as he helped me get the plastic bag off again. His gaze remained firmly on my face, despite my wearing nothing but a towel. I was immensely thankful for that. I didn’t know if I would have been able to stay if he had commented on my state of undress.

I put on the fresh panties and his discarded shirt and crawled under the covers.

Negan came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. I had almost fallen asleep but startled awake again from the sound of his footsteps. I watched him without moving.

He walked through the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. The warm, orange light from the standing lamp softly illuminated his body and I couldn’t help but stare. Did he do this on purpose or did he think I was asleep?

He dropped the towel and I closed my eyes.

Then I opened them again. How could he…? Why did he…? He grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser by the door and slipped them on before switching off the light.

“You sleeping?” he whispered, climbing into bed.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t admit I’d just watched him get dressed.

“You stole my clothes… how am I going to punish you for that?” he muttered, moving closer.

“It looked so comfortable…” I whispered, face hidden under the covers.

“And what would you do if I asked for it back right now?”

I hadn’t thought about that possibility. “Are you going to?”

That made him chuckle. “Keep it.”

I pulled the covers down far enough so I could see him.

“Come here,” he said and moved on his back so I could lie in the crook of his shoulder, same as last time. Except this time he didn’t wear a shirt. “How are your fingers so cold?” he hissed when I touched him.

“Sorry…” I pulled back, but he held on to me, putting his hand on top of mine on his chest. His naked, hard chest…

He felt nice. I buried my face against his neck and let my arm slide upwards to his shoulder, my thumb softly caressing his skin.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he muttered, pulling my leg up farther, holding on to my thigh.

It really was nice. I was overly aware of his hand on my back, and how it had moved under the shirt. He caressed my back in the same gentle motions as I caressed his chest.

Without conscious thought, my hips grinded against him. I froze.

His hand wandered up my thigh and stopped just under my ass. Did I want him to go on?

Yes. I did.

I reached down and urged his wandering hand on. I wanted him to touch me. I really, actually wanted him to touch me. I had never felt that before. Before, it had always simply happened. No one had bothered to ask consent.

I sighed against Negan’s neck and let my hand wander up his arm from where I’d positioned him. From his arm I went over his stomach. It was warm and soft and I let my hand explore farther upwards. I didn’t think I had ever done such a thing before; exploring a man’s body, taking my time, no pressure at all.

I stopped moving. Was this okay? Were we really doing this? What even was “this”?

Negan’s soft hand on my ass reminded me to stop thinking. He let his fingers wander under the edge of my panties just the tiniest bit and continued upwards, along the line of my waist, up over my ribs. He pushed his shirt up with him and I found I didn’t mind.

My naked belly against his side was just a little more skin contact. And I wanted it. I wanted his skin against mine.

I licked my lips and softly placed them to the sensitive spot over his pulse point. Not quite a kiss, but tasting him, exploring boundaries.

He squeezed me tighter in reply and I felt his lips against my forehead. This was the moment that always scared me the most. If I kissed him now, there was no turning back. We would end up having sex. Part of me, situated deep between my legs, wanted to do just that. Sex, dirty, quick, careless. My brain didn’t. It didn’t feel right.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled back, burying my face in my hands. Fuck!

Negan stopped his explorations and pulled his hand away. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“We can’t have sex,” I whispered.

He took a moment to reply. “Who the fuck said anything about sex?”

“No one.”

“So?”

“Just… can we agree not to have sex tonight?”

His body vibrated with silent laughter. “Agreed.”

“Even if we end up kissing?”

“Even then!”

“Thank you,” I sighed.

“Does oral count as well?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.

I thought of the many occasions I had been made to suck a guy’s dick. “I… really don’t like blowjobs.”

“What about being on the receiving end?” His voice had a new quality to it. Deeper, darker somehow.

“I… ‘ve never tried that…” I admitted.

Negan moved up on his elbows. “Fucking what?”

“Isn’t it… disgusting?”

“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to but I’d call it the fucking opposite of disgusting!”

I felt my cheeks go hot. I’d never even considered anyone would want to do that to me. I didn’t know what to say.

“So we’re going to leave that possibility open,” Negan said.

That part of me between my legs screamed. My imagination ran wild.

Negan rolled to his side, which brought him closer to me again. “Turn around,” he whispered.

I blinked a couple of times, but rolled to my side as well, my back facing his chest. When he pulled me against him it was as if a cocoon of warmth suddenly encased me.

I sighed happily and felt his dick push against my butt in reply… and froze. He’d change his mind now. I was sure of it.

He did no such thing.

Instead, he pulled me against him some more and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck. I had to bite my lips not to sigh again. “Can you do that some more?” I whispered.

“This?” he kissed me again.

“Yes.” His lips on my skin made me tingle all over.

And he seemed to enjoy it as well if things going on below his waistline were any indication.

I pulled away from him as far as his arm around my waist allowed it, which wasn’t very far at first, but when he noticed my uneasiness, he loosened his grip.

“Stop worrying. I stand by the deals I make,” he whispered and I could feel him smile against me.

Part of me knew I could trust him. The traumatized part of me was louder though. I pulled away even farther and I wanted to cry out loud with how much I hated this. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with and not one thing more.”

“Why are you so nice to me?” My voice was so quiet, I wasn’t sure if he’d even heard what I had said.

“I enjoy your company. You’re much more interesting than all the other dickheads downstairs. And if I could, I would kill all the assholes that fucked you up so bad.”

“Don’t pity me…”

“I never said anything about pity, Clara. You’re not to be fucking pitied. Weaklings deserve pity. You deserve fucking admiration!”

“Admiration?” I half turned towards him.

“You’re in bed with a man, practically naked, in case you haven’t noticed.”

That made me laugh.

“Knowing a little of your history, that’s fucking admirable in my book. Pity…” he snorted. “You don’t pity a fucking lioness that’s been beaten down but gets up to find some damn prey nonetheless.”

“That’s how you see me?” A lioness? I liked that picture!

“’Course I do… ‘cause that’s what you fucking are!”

I turned around all the way. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Don’t ever thank anyone for saying the truth.”

I moved towards him again and he embraced me. And that was all we did that night. And it was good.


	3. Learning to Enjoy Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara gets punished for harming herself. But something else happens as well... and that makes her forget everything else. Things get hot and steamy... literally!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be the last (for the second time! lol) but for whatever reason my brain keeps coming up with more events that happen... 
> 
> Definitely doesn't have anything to do with the whole of my city being quarantined and me being bored out of my mind :P
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy! Stay tuned for the next chapter!

The next morning, I went back to work like usual. I still felt Negan’s scent on me when I started with the breakfast preparations and stopped to enjoy every so often.

I felt as if people were looking at me differently, like they knew where I had spent the night, like they could smell him on me, but… that couldn’t really be the case, could it?

I went to the pantry to get a couple loafs of bread when Andrew came running after me. I liked Andrew. He was always nice, but he’d never made an effort to help me in any way. “Leave those to me! They’re too heavy for you,” he muttered, taking two of the loafs.

When I went outside to get the eggs from the chicken coop, people brought them to me instead of letting me get them from the nests myself.

On my way back, a girl from the gardening team called me over to have a taste of the grapes they were going to harvest in a couple days.

There was no way I was imagining this. Something really was different.

In the afternoon, news of an ironing started making the rounds. The ironing was to take place tonight, after dinner, as always. Attendance was mandatory, as usual.

After having watched this very creative form of punishment once, I had decided to never attend again. On a normal day I didn’t face any problems simply hiding out in my room, no one would give two shits if I was really there. Today that probably wasn’t an option.

I would be there.

In the first row.

“You okay?” Shanaya asked. I couldn’t remember her ever talking to me before. “You look pale. Here, have a seat.”

I took the offered stool and took a couple of deep, slow breaths. “Thank you,” I muttered. My voice sounded normal, despite the feeling of a huge ass rock sitting on my chest.

Come dinnertime, instead of taking my break, I offered to work the serving counter to keep my mind off things. It was the busiest job of the day and people hated doing it, so nobody asked twice why I volunteered.

My plan worked… at first… Time flew by while I was busy ladling out stew, feeding who knew how many hungry mouths.

Soon I realized the one big flaw in my plan though: Standing behind the counter, looking out into the mess hall, I had a perfect view of the blast furnace and got to watch it being lit. The iron was there already, but it was cool and black.

In half an hour it would glow red hot.

My stomach threatened to turn and I swallowed deeply before I ladled out the next bowl of stew.

I started when Negan appeared on the walkway up top and positioned himself to watch over his assembled people. Our gazes locked for just a moment before he went back to playing the big and bad leader. I knew he would give a speech before he punished Zack. He loved giving speeches.

As time passed, slowly but surely people became agitated. The ones that had finished eating an hour ago and started trickling back in, joining the ones who were sweeping the last of the stew up with pieces of bread.

The cleaning crew went outside and wiped the tables and shooed away the slow eaters so they could clear everything to the sides to make space for all the onlookers.

Negan had barely moved from where he stood. He obviously enjoyed all the fuss people made for him.

“People,” he started and with the one word, every other voice died down. I was still behind the counter, but I could see Simon move towards me with a look of purpose on his face.

I gave him a short nod and took off my apron before I vanished into the kitchen to wash up. No one would want their dinner now.

Negan’s voice carried through the serving window and in the kitchen as he continued his speech. “Once again, you’re all assembling here because some asshole has forgotten the rules. Once again, you will be entertained by someone’s pain like the fucking perverts I know you all are.”

Simon appeared behind me as I was fixing my hair in the cracked mirror and gripped me by the shoulder as if I might run away if he didn’t. He escorted me out of the kitchen, forcing me to wipe my wet hands on my jeans.

People in and out of the kitchen stared, like they always did. In this moment I hated them. Couldn’t they mind their own fucking business?

“Zack joined us two years ago. He was a fucking child back then, far from the man he is today. Or so I though. I am as much an ignorant asshole as you are in this,” Negan continued his speech. He had made it down to the halfway point of the stairs, casually leaning on the banister. “I thought I had raised him right, taught him how to behave in this, in our society. But I fucked up. So believe me when I say: this one ain’t going to be fucking easy on me.”

This sounded less like one of his speeches now than him casually telling a group of friends about another friend.

He pulled himself up to his full height and his voice resonated through the hall. “But it has to be done. Someone has to be jury, judge and fucking hangman. And I’d rather it’s me than one of you.” Yea, this was more what I had expected.

Simon led me towards the bottom of the stairs and stopped. Negan looked at us and motioned for me to join him where he stood.

No! I couldn’t! Everyone was staring already.

Simon gave me a push and I took two steps towards Negan, catching myself on the handrail.

“Clara here has been the victim of my fuck up…” He reached for me and I took his hand and let him pull me up to stand on the staircase with him. My heart raced and I could hear the blood rush in my ears. “…and it almost cost her her life.” Negan gripped my hand and pulled it upwards so everyone could see the dirty bandage on my arm. I was mortified. Every pair of eyes in the room was focused on me, probably judging. I wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

“Zack, fucking asshole that he is, chose to hurt someone weaker than him.” At this, Zack was brought in, handcuffed and dirty. The noise he made drew people’s attention away from me and towards him.

I relaxed a little.

As soon as Zack saw me, he started struggling and managed to tear away from his handlers.

So much for relaxing! I took a step towards Negan and he put himself between Zack and me, even though Zack didn’t stand half a chance to make it through the room before he was captured again.

“And it seems he still hasn’t learned his fucking lesson!” Negan loudly commented the situation. People were visibly unsettled by Zack’s behavior. “And if today still doesn’t teach him to behave, he will fucking suffer the consequences down in our nice and cozy dungeons! So listen, and listen closely! Because if you think of breaking the rules, you could be in his place tomorrow! There’s no fucking exceptions, not for a guard, not for the cleaning crew and not for your fucking grandma. So let this be a reminder of how we behave in this society! We don’t hurt anyone weaker than us! It’s that simple! And for everyone who arrived just this week, pay close attention and welcome to the fucking Saviors!” His last words seemed to resonate between the walls for a small eternity. Nothing but the sound of his footsteps was audible when he walked down the rest of the stairs. I followed him on light feet, not wanting to take any attention away from him.

Not that that would have been possible. Every pair of eyes in the room was focused on Negan. The crowd parted before him like the red sea as he walked towards the furnace, followed by Zack and his handlers.

As soon as I was on level ground, Simon appeared by my side and pushed me after Negan before the crowd could close the path they’d formed.

Negan reached the furnace and stopped, slowly turning around, bathing in the admiration of his people.

I looked around at the assembled faces and noticed Sherry among them, seeming positively giddy with excitement.

How could she… how could anyone enjoy what was about to happen? I took a couple of deep breaths while the smell of food still hung in the air. In only a few minutes the smell of burning human flesh and hair would replace it. It would hang in the air for days and make each meal a struggle between going hungry and gagging from the smell.

I wanted to run away. I didn’t want to see this! Not from the first row, not from the last! Nausea washed over me and I closed my eyes for a moment. My chest was so tight, I was sure I would suffocate.

The heat from the furnace was bordering on unbearable. I could feel sweat form on my lower back. Dizziness joined the nausea and I felt myself starting to shake. Shit. I’d have a panic attack. Taking deep breaths wouldn’t fix this. Not when the worst was yet to come.

The cut on my palm had been so shallow, it was barely even visible any longer. Negan had to realize this! He’d allow me to leave before he started. He had to!

I hugged myself and watched the floor closely. Sweat formed on my forehead. The noise from the furnace seemed to grow louder until it drowned out everything else. This was too much, I couldn’t watch this.

The clattering sound of the iron being pulled out of the furnace brought me back to the real world. I felt my thighs shake.

“You alright?” Simon muttered from my left.

I shook my head. Bouts of violent shaking moved through my body and my teeth chattered. I felt as if my mind had left my body altogether and I was watching myself from up above. Suddenly I was very cold.

“Negan,” Simon hissed.

Negan had been saying something, but stopped at Simons call. “Take her outside,” he ordered and continued his speech.

Relief flooded me and I wasn’t sure if my legs would carry me if I started walking now.

Simon turned me around and against all odds, my legs worked. I didn’t know where he led me and I didn’t care as long as I didn’t have to stay where I was.

The air outside was cool and fresh. It had rained earlier and moisture still hung in the air. I took deep breaths, looking up at the grey, cloudy sky.

Birds chirped, wind rustled in the leaves, Walkers groaned.

A scream from the inside pierced the idyllic moment. It was drowned out by a collective moan from the crowd a second later. I moaned with them and dropped to the ground, hugging my knees and hiding my face. How could Negan do something like that when he had been so gentle with me last night? How?

The clicking of a lighter made me look up.

“I don’t enjoy watching that shit either,” Simon said, after taking a long inhale from his cigarette. “Don’t know why he does it… probably for show as much as for anything else… always loves giving people a good show. Should have gone into acting, instead of burning people’s faces off, I say. You smoke?” He held a packet of cigarettes in my direction.

I hadn’t smoked in years but I needed something to occupy my fingers with that wouldn’t end up in me spilling my own blood again, so I took one with shaking fingers. Or I tried to. I was shaking too hard.

Simon simply gave me his already burning cigarette and lit another one for himself.

I greedily inhaled… and broke out in a fit of coughing.

“You really shouldn’t start in this day and age… its bad for your health,” Simon said, looking down at me from where he leaned against the wall.

I snorted. “Yea, I don’t think I’ll live long enough to die of cancer.”

Simon shrugged. “Who knows, eh?”

People slowly started filing outside, a couple of them lighting up cigarettes, some just taking a breath of air after what they’d just witnessed, some staring at us openly, some very obviously not. One girl bent over next to one of the trees and puked. I rolled my eyes. Couldn’t she have done that on the toilet?

Negan towered over everyone else as he came out as well and scanned the area. He changed his direction once he spotted us and people moved out of his way without hesitation.

“You alright?” he said, crouching down before me. “I didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” I courtly answered both his questions.

“Don’t give her this shit!” Negan said to Simon and plucked the cigarette from my fingers. He took a deep inhale before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.

“I’m not a child, you know?” I muttered, getting to my feet. My arms and legs still felt shaky, but with the help of the wall I managed. I hadn’t realized Simon was almost as tall as Negan, but he was. They made me feel tiny.

“What happened in there?” Negan asked, ignoring my statement.

“Nothing,” I lied, staring at the ground.

“Didn’t look like nothing!” Negan put a finger under my chin and made me look up.

I pushed his hand down and looked left of him and right, anything so I didn’t have to meet his eyes. “Panic attack” I mumbled.

He raised an eyebrow.

“What?” I hugged myself and found a very interesting rock on the ground to look at, instead of Negan’s face.

Simon tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground and put it out with his shoe. “I’ll leave you to it…” he muttered and left.

Negan looked after him for a moment and then focused back on me. “You gonna be alright?”

I nodded. “Yea…”

He nodded as well. For a few minutes neither of us said a thing. The girl that had been puking had sat down right next to her puke and cried. She must be one of the new arrivals. Part of me felt pity for her.

“People have been talking…” Negan interrupted my musings.

“About?” I looked up.

“You and I.”

I snorted. “Yea, they’re acting differently as well… Sucking it up to their big fearless leader’s new girlfriend or something.”

“Big and fearless… I like that,” he muttered. “So what do you think?”

“About what?”

“Being my girlfriend… or,” he shrugged, “wife.”

Had I just heard that right? “Umm… are you proposing?”

“If you want to call it that,” he snorted.

I thought about it for a moment and slowly started shaking my head. “Sorry, but… no.” Not like this.

“No?” He raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

“Because… if I’ll be someone’s wife, I want to be the only one.” I wanted to have a special place in their heart… and bed.

“All your problems would be solved. No more working, no more worrying about your meds, you’d have your own room and you’d be save up on the fifth floor.”

“No! I don’t care!” No matter what he said or how much he advertised being his wife, I wouldn’t accept his proposal.

“I can’t play favorites with you forever,” he continued.

I raised my eyebrow and shook my head some more. I felt very tired all of a sudden. “I don’t care!” My voice sounded as powerless as I felt. Why did he have to start with this now?

My legs felt like they wouldn’t carry me any longer. I leaned against the wall and slowly slid downwards. “I thought you liked me.” I whispered.

Negan slowly sat down next to me, looking at me earnestly. “I do, Clara.”

“Then why do you want to change… us?” I turned away. I didn’t want to look at him.

“To protect you, make your life easier.” He gently put his hand on my thigh.

I sniffled. “No…” I pushed his hand away and hugged my knees. I didn’t have the energy to think about this now. I was tired on more than a physical level.

Negan put his arm around my shoulders and pressed his lips to my temple.

Outside!

In front of everyone!

I didn’t dare move for fear of making him shy away.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he whispered and let go of me. He got to his feet with a groan. “You coming?”

What did he want now? “I’m too tired to read your mind… I’ll need full sentences.”

“Will you join me in my quarters to spend the night with me, fair maiden?” he asked, making a bow before me, sticking his left leg out in front.

I laughed, really actually laughed. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed. It felt good. “I will, if you’ll have me, good sir!”

I seized his proffered hand and let him pull me to my feet. A couple of people happened to turn their heads in our direction at just that moment, perfectly accidentally of course. I pretended not to notice. I honestly couldn’t care less about them. Whatever they said or thought about me, I was the one sleeping in Negan’s arms tonight while they shared a small, uncomfortable cot with whoever knew how many others. It was everyone for themselves.

+++

I hated to admit it, but Negan’s apartment slowly started to feel like home. He turned the key behind us and it was as if the world outside didn’t matter anymore. It was just him and me now.

“I stink like fucking BBQ,” Negan muttered and pulled his shirt over his head. He dropped it on his way to the bathroom and let his pants follow suit, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor.

Upon Negan’s recommendation, I had started reading War and Peace. I had sat down with the book on my lap, opened, but found my eyes were much more drawn to the glimpses I could see through the bathroom door than to the book.

Had he left it open on purpose? That would be the second time he allowed me to see him naked; even though I wasn’t sure it was intentional.

The moment the water was turned off, I lowered my eyes to the page I’d been pretending to read but it couldn’t hold my interest for long. The shower stall door was opened and a long arm reached for a towel.

I’d never felt so giddy about seeing a naked arm. It probably had more to do with who the arm was attached to than the arm itself. No man had treated me like Negan before. There was something to the way he acted around me… and he had asked me to be his wife! My chest grew tight again at the thought.

Negan stepped out of the shower and I focused on my book for real, only to realize I had been holding it upside down for the whole of his shower. I couldn’t turn it around now. Negan was coming towards me.

“You like it?” he asked, stepping next to me and looking down at the page.

I didn’t move and didn’t answer.

He reached down and turned it over in my hands. “Might be easier to enjoy that way.”

I heard the smile in his voice and looked up, smiling as well. And then the smile froze on my face. I took a deep breath. A couple waterdroplets clung to the hair on his chest. The urge to get up and lick the droplets off of him was almost irresistible.

Negan didn’t seem to notice my inner struggle. He stepped around me again and went to his dresser, DROPPING THE FRIGGIN TOWEL on his way.

I bit back a squeal. This was too much.

He pulled up his boxers and turned towards me again. “You alright? You look tense.”

I nodded, lips pressed together tightly. I didn’t trust my voice.

“You sure?” He took a fresh pair of jeans from another drawer.

“Yes…” I pressed out.

Negan reached for the towel on the floor and dried off his chest before putting on a t-shirt.

I took a deep breath. He was fully dressed. All was good. He sat down on the sofa and without him telling me to, I moved to sit with him.

“What page are you on?” he asked, motioning to the book. He knew as well as me I hadn’t been reading.

“Five,” I admitted truthfully.

Negan nodded, a smile playing around his lips. “So you enjoyed yourself?”

“A little…” I shyly admitted.

“Good.” He put his arm around my shoulders and playfully pulled me against him.

I sighed happily. The day, especially the last part of it, hat been awful, but being with him, here, now, like this made everything seem half as bad. I put my arms around him and kissed his neck. Really kissed it this time. His skin was still damp and unbelievably warm to the touch. Pleasant. I kissed him again and felt him lift his head to give me better access.

This was nice. Real nice.

I kissed him a couple more times, making my way up towards his ear. A shiver went through him when I let my lips glide over his earlobe.

“Keep doing that.” His voice was low and gentle. Impossible to compare it with the booming speech he had given an hour ago.

I shook my head to lose the image of him on that staircase. Not now! I couldn’t think of him in that way now. The Negan in here with me was a different person than the one downstairs.

Unaware of my inner struggle, he pulled me to sit on his lap, my knees left and right of him.

His arms wandered up my sides, under my shirt. His fingers on my skin felt so good. Was it alright to take off my shirt? It must stink of kitchen… I wanted to smell good for Negan. Shit, I should have taken a shower too. I should have joined him in the shower… had that open door been an invitation?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Showering,” I muttered.

A bark of laughter made him vibrate under me. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“Do you mind if I have a one? I’ll be real quick!”

“Whatever makes you happy,” he said, leaning back, putting his hands behind his head, stretching his shoulders.

I climbed off him and walked to the bathroom. My legs felt wobbly… and the part in between them screamed at me for walking away.

It was warm in the bathroom, the air damp, pleasant. A noise from outside made me look up. Negan was sitting in the chair I had been sitting in earlier. Did… did he want a show? Should I close the door? Or leave it open? My hands shook as I unwrapped my arm and put the bandage on the counter to put it on again later.

The thought of him watching me made me feel… something and I decided to leave the door open.

I struggled to pull my shirt over my head with shaking arms… my back facing the door. Was he looking? Did he like this? I risked a glance over my shoulder and found him demonstratively holding up War and Peace… upside down. His eyes met mine over the edge of it and I felt a bolt of electricity flash through me.

I shook so badly I could barely unbuckle my belt.

“You need any help in there?” Negan shouted.

“No, I’m okay,” I answered, fumbling around some more until I finally managed. I dropped my pants and stepped out of them. I was sure I could feel Negan’s gaze on my back and… lower down. Shit… could I really do this?

Did he really enjoy seeing me undress? How? Why? I risked another glance over my shoulder and found him watching me intently. He leaned forward on the chair and my breath hitched in my throat. Okay, I could do this. I unhooked my bra with a surprisingly swift movement and dropped it.

And before I could think better of it, I stepped out of my panties and into the shower. I had done it. I had really done it. He had seen me naked. I had allowed a man to see me naked. For only a second… and from behind, but I had really done it!

I could barely contain how proud I was of myself. And how turned on.

My shower was brief, as I had promised. I wanted to be back on Negan’s lap as soon as possible, freshly showered and not smelling of kitchen. I reached for a towel and froze. The towel rack was empty.

“Umm… Negan?” I called out.

“Yea?”

“There’s no towels.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty much, yes…”

“Shit I… do you mind using mine?”

“No.” But I kinda minded him bringing it into the bathroom.

“You mind me bringing it to you?”

“Yea, but… just… just do it.”

“I won’t look… unless you want me to,” he offered and I could hear laughter in his voice.

Shit. Now I was all tense again.

He came into the bathroom and put the damp towel in my hand. “You sure you don’t want me to look?” he said. I glanced past the fogged glass wall and found him holding his hand before his eyes.

Part of me wanted to step out of the shower and just pull his hand away and down and…. No. That was too much. I quickly dried my hair and wrapped the damp towel around me. This was enough. He had seen me like this before. I could take this.

“You may open your eyes,” I allowed and Negan dropped his hand and opened his eyes. He looked at me and his whole face softened with… admiration?

No. Impossible. No one could ever admire me. Why would they? There was nothing admirable about me. But… he had said he found me admirable just yesterday.

I didn’t dare move. His gaze met mine and something flashed between us. He closed the last distance that separated us and pushed my wet hair behind my ear. My heartbeat sped up. I was hot and cold and hot again and then his lips met mine.

I whimpered against his mouth. His hands wandered around my waist, encasing me completely, lifting me up the tiniest bit so I was closer to him. Closer to his mouth. Closer.

Not close enough by far. I wrapped my arms around him as well and my left leg followed suit, wrapping around his waist, pulling us closer together still.

My movement had opened up my towel and certain, naked, overly sensitive parts of me rubbed against his jeans. The sensation made my knees go weak. I was glad for Negan’s arms around me, holding me upright.

I liked what his right arm was up to especially. It moved downwards and found my butt, lifting me up even higher.

He grinded his hips against me once and I felt something push against me from behind his jeans.

I froze. This couldn’t be happening! I couldn’t do that to him again!

The second he realized what had happened, he pulled back.

I groaned with frustration over myself. Why was I so scared? He wouldn’t hurt me! Not here, not in his bed. He had shown me how much he cared about me. “I’ll be okay, just give me a minute,” I muttered, letting go of him. Walking in slow circles in the bathroom, I hid my face behind my hands. I wouldn’t let my stupid anxiety stop me from this. No!

Negan lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. “You want me to leave you alone?” He moved towards the door, backwards.

“No!” I rapidly shook my head and readjusted my towel. “Please stay… I’m so sorry… Fuck…”

He took a couple deep breaths, watching me.

He’d kick me out now. I had overdone it. I had ruined it. I turned around in a circle, stomping my feet like a pouting child. I was so mad with myself.

“Stop,” Negan said and caught me by my shoulders.

I looked down at his hands as if I’d never seen them before. Then I looked up at his face. Without a warning, Negan dove down and kissed me again. Hard. He pushed me backwards until my ass hit the counter. I gasped with surprise and he took his chance and deepened our kiss. His tongue filled my mouth with the taste of Whiskey and smoke and I couldn’t remember ever having tasted anything better.

Negan gripped my hips and lifted me up on the counter. “Stay,” he ordered and pulled away.

I gripped his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he chuckled. He moved to kiss my neck and clavicle and the top of my breasts where the towel ended. And he kept on moving downwards, letting his hands glide over my body.

By the time I realized where he was heading, his head was at my crotch level, his hands on my thighs, wandering upwards. His eyes were focused on my face, silently communicating how he would only keep going as long as I was comfortable.

Was I comfortable? I wasn’t sure. I liked what his hands did, I liked how it made me feel. Excited and greedy and… only a little scared.

His hands went down my thighs again, towards my knees and his fingers carefully moved between them, spreading my legs just the tiniest bit.

My breathing sped up. What was I supposed to do? Had I washed well enough? Should I have shaved? I hadn’t shaved in so long… not even my legs…

Negan’s fingers moving upwards on the inside of my thighs made me stop thinking. He slowly pushed my legs apart as he moved upwards.

I found I was shivering, definitely not from cold though.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me,” he muttered, moving to kiss my knee and then up my thigh.

I took a sharp inhale and my breathing sped up. Parts of me were quivering with anticipation. Now if only my brain would shut up.

His fingers reached the very top of my thighs and I gasped when he carefully traced the very edge of me.

He looked up, checking on me and I only barely managed to nod for him to keep going. I leaned back on my hands until my head hit the wall and closed my eyes. I couldn’t look down at him that would be too much… or could I?

I risked a glance.

He was facing down and I only saw his dark, full hair. His head gently moved up and down as he kissed his way up my thigh. I felt a bit of tongue against my flesh every so often and it made me shiver pleasantly.

His fingers were so gentle on me, it was like nothing I had ever felt before. Touching my vagina… No man before had ever done that… they’d just stuck their dick in as soon as the pants had come off, most of the time not even bothering to properly kiss me… This… I whimpered when he let one finger slide into me a little deeper. Fuck this felt good.

He took my feet and put them behind his shoulders, exposing me to him completely. I shivered all over. I was nervous and scared and eager for him to go on. Would it feel good? I couldn’t imagine…

All my thoughts turned to mush when I felt his mouth on me. Holy fucking shit. This felt… incredible. The thought he would want to do something like that… to me… I gripped the edge of the counter with one hand and desperately searched for something to hold on to with the other.

I found purchase in his hair and it made me feel in control. I could steer him a little… not that I needed to… what he did was perfect. I couldn’t have done it any better.

His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place. His beard scratched over my soft flesh and I found myself pushing his face deeper against myself, my hips buckling towards him, my legs pulling him closer. I wanted more of this!

He pushed back against my hand and looked up, breathless, his face glistening. “I need to breathe every once in a while,” he panted.

“Sorry…” I muttered, trying to come down.

“No… I love it… just… oxygen!” With that he dove down again and found another spot to suck on. I felt something inside of me convulse. What was that?

He pushed a finger inside of me and did something that made me cry out. “Fuck yes!”

He did it again and my muscles clenched around his finger. I didn’t know what he did, but I wanted him to keep doing it until… “More!” I whimpered and my legs pulled him closer again. I arched my back, wanting him deeper and more and my towel slid off of me. I couldn’t care less.

Negan ate me out like a dog, greedy and hungry, licking and sucking and biting and I was exposed before him in mind and body and I didn’t care if he saw me naked.

I would have laughed with joy if I’d had any little part of my mind left for laughing. But I couldn’t. I was too occupied with convulsing around nothing. Was this… would he make me orgasm? I hadn’t thought I even could orgasm, but this… what he made me feel… “Ah fuck yes!” I buried my fingers deep in his hair. “More… please!”

He changed something in his movements, in his rhythm and… I hadn’t thought this could get any better. His fingers sped up inside of me and he looked up, not stopping his movements.

“Cum for me,” he muttered, bending over me again and kissing the top of my mound.

Fuck yes, I wanted to cum for him, but how… Oh shit. Oh holy fucking shit. “Oh my god… keep… fuck… keep doing this!” I whimpered. My whole body started spasming in tune with his movements. I couldn’t control my legs or my arms or anything at all… I felt like a wave of pure ecstasy rolled over me again and again until I drowned in warmth and pleasure and…

I was exhausted… and limp… and incredibly, unbelievably happy.

Negan kissed his way from my hip upwards, over my navel, between my breasts and found my mouth again. He tasted different than before. I realized that was probably how I tasted down under. Suddenly I felt very embarrassed. Did I… did I taste right?

“Did… did I do alright?” I uttered, still breathing heavy.

Negan chuckled. “I should be the one asking that. But yes, you did perfectly alright.”

I relaxed. I had done well. “And you really enjoyed doing it?”

“Didn’t I look like I fucking enjoyed it?”

“I barely even saw your face,” I muttered. Slowly, feeling started to come back into my limbs and I sat up, thighs still shaking. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk ever again.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Negan said, looking me up and down, licking his lips. “Damn, you’re fucking beautiful…”

“Don’t make fun of me!” I waved him off.

“I mean it. If you could see yourself through my eyes… Hot damn!” He bent over me to kiss me again.

I awkwardly grabbed the towel and wrapped it around myself again when he pulled away to wash his face and have a few sips of water straight from the faucet.

No one had ever called me beautiful before. I inelegantly slid off the counter and held on to Negan’s arm. Fuck my knees were wobbly.

Negan wiped his face and, without a warning, swiped me up on his arms and carried me into the bedroom.


	4. Learning to trust in Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old acquaintance appears at the Sanctuary, new possibilities open up and small gifts make for big feelings.

Negan had been gone for almost a week, dealing with something or other at one of our outposts. Things were almost back to normal. People either seemed to have forgotten they’d wanted to suck it up to me or they had heard I had refused to become Negan’s wife. In any case, I was back to carrying my own stuff.

It was early afternoon and I was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. I sighed when I looked at the huge ass heap still before me. Today would be a long day.

“Negan wants you to join him in his office,” Tobias suddenly said behind me.

“What?” I turned around, carefully putting away the peeler. I had been good all week long, not cutting myself a single time and I didn’t want to start now.

“Negan wants you. In his office,” Tobias repeated slower. “Now,” he added, when I still didn’t move.

I hadn’t even known Negan was back. Why didn’t he come pick me up himself? And why did he want me in his office? Had I done something wrong?

I had only been in Negan’s office once, when he had interviewed me when I’d first come to the Sanctuary, but I knew where it was, of course. Everyone knew where it was.

I knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited. His office. What did he want me in his office for? When had he come back? Why had nobody told me?

“Come in,” Negan called.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

Negan sat in the chair at his desk with another man of about the same age opposite of him. The second man turned around and I froze.

No!

This couldn’t be!

This was impossible!

“Clara!” Uncle Felix exclaimed and got up. “It’s really you! I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” His expression didn’t match his friendly tone.

I didn’t move.

This wasn’t happening!

Uncle Felix closed the distance between us in a few long steps and put his arms around me, hugging me tight. “Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hissed, digging his fingernails in the flesh of my upper arm as he gripped me and pretended to look me over.

I remained completely stiff. When would I wake up from this nightmare?

“Look at you, all grown up!” Uncle Felix said out loud.

I couldn’t bear his touch for a second longer. Struggling free of his grasp, I took a step backwards, which brought my back against the door. It felt kinda symbolic.

I wanted to run. Where could I go?

Uncle Felix was alive.

Here!

Fuck.

Negan noticed my discomfort and got up as well. “Are you alright?”

“Yea… all good,” I lied, shooting Uncle Felix a glance. See, I won’t tell! I took a step towards Negan, away from my Uncle. And another one.

“Good,” Negan said, focusing back on Uncle Felix. “Well, Doc Felix, get settled into your new quarters, we’ll finish our conversation later,” Negan said and shook my Uncle’s hand.

Uncle Felix shot me one last glance that made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise before Negan pushed him out and closed the door in his face.

I shuddered.

“What’s wrong?” Negan asked. He had looked straight through my lie, as usual. He put his arm around me and led me to one of the visitor’s chairs so I could sit down.

“Did you just call him Doc Felix?” I mumbled. I wouldn’t tell Negan the truth. I couldn’t. I had never told anyone.

“Said he’s a pediatrician,” Negan slowly said. “… and he fucking lied to me.”

I slowly nodded.

“He is no doctor,” I muttered. “He’s a hillbilly that barely made it through High School! He lived off my grandma until she died and then he kicked me out of the house.” I felt cold just thinking about the years with him and his Son, my Cousin Felix junior. Hugging myself didn’t make it any better. Shit. I had to leave…

Negan pulled out another chair and sat down opposite me, one arm casually on the table. He sat unmoving and watched me. “That’s not all.”

I shook my head, slowly. There was no way I could tell him. “Please don’t make me say.” I looked around the room, studied the floor, anything so I didn’t have to look at Negan. I buried my face in my hands and closed my eyes, making myself small.

Negan pulled his chair towards me and placed his knees left and right of mine. He leaned forward on his elbows and gently pulled my hands down.

I took a deep breath. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn’t. “He shouldn’t be allowed near kids,” I muttered instead.

“Shit,” Negan muttered. “He’s the fucker that hurt you.”

I sniffled and looked to the floor again. I couldn’t!

“I’m going to fucking kill him!” Negan got to his feet and took a step towards the door, then turned around again. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” I blinked at him. “Am I sure you just brought the man that molested me for years back into my life? Yes, pretty much!”

“Fucking shit!” Negan punched the wall, hard.

I winced and tears filled my eyes.

Negan turned to me and shook his head. “Goddamn fucking shit!” he exhaled and sat down opposite me again, banging his fist on the table.

Shrinking back from him, wiping away at my tears, I got to my feet and walked towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Negan asked, catching my wrist.

I turned back to face him. “Out… away… I can’t stay under the same roof with him.”

“You will damn well stay!” Negan said. His voice was low, but his grip on my wrist tightened.

“I can’t. Please don’t make me!” I angrily wiped at the tears trickling down my face.

“I won’t let him hurt you.” Negan promised.

I took a deep, shaky inhale. Of all the people to survive, why did my fucking Uncle have to be one of them? He who deserved nothing better than being dismembered by Walkers… or eaten by one single Walker, whichever was more painful.

“Come here,” Negan said and pulled me against him.

Life had been so good lately. Why did this have to happen now?

Negan kissed me on the forehead and pet my head, holding me, protecting me.

“I can’t stay where he is,” I whimpered.

“You won’t. I’m going to put him with the pigs, where he fucking belongs,” Negan said.

I sniffled. The pigs… People who didn’t know how to behave where put to pig duty. It was one step above the dungeons. People got to do something for the community and it kept them out of the cells. It was like probation, basically.

Uncle Felix was such a manipulative ass, he’d love it there, with a lot of impressionable dumbfucks to boss around… but being put with the pigs would put him behind a guarded fence. And he couldn’t hurt any kids if he was with the pigs.

It was a good solution but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

I stepped away from Negan, blinking rapidly and staring at the ceiling to stop the tears from flowing. I had shed enough tears for a lifetime over my fucking Uncle. He deserved no more.

“I have come up with another proposal for you,” Negan suddenly said. “And I think you’ll want to accept this one, especially under these circumstances.”

I turned my head towards him. Slowly. Had he done this on purpose? Brought Felix here to scare me? “I’m not going to be your wife! Felix being here won’t change that.” I took another step away from him.

“I know that, Clara, but! You are going to be my HR Person.” He seemed awfully proud of himself for coming up with that idea.

I blinked a couple of times. “Your what?”

“My HR Person, my Secretary, my go-between, call it what you will.”

I blinked some more. I had expected a lot, but not this. “What does that entail?”

“You will be the person people go to when they have a problem. When they’re out of points, when they need bigger quarters, when they fucked up, stuff I don’t have the time for to deal with.” He trailed off.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because, it pays twice as much as you make now with half the work. You’ll be equal in rank with a Lieutenant. And you will be allowed to move into your own room on the third floor, where nobody can hurt you.”

“Why not?”

“Because all of my Lieutenants stay on the third floor. One sound and they’ll come running.”

I had to admit that sounded compelling, especially after what I’d just found out. But did I really want to be the one people came to when they wanted to whine about something?

“Simon will help you learn. Being my go-between was part of his job until now, but I need him out in the field.”

“And that’s where I come in…” I muttered. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course. It’s a big commitment, I’m not gonna lie. And a lot of responsibility. But I have faith in you.”

“Well at least one of us does…”

Not deigning my comment with an answer, Negan went back to his desk and took something from the top drawer.

“Give me your hand,” he said, coming back towards me.

What was it now? I had all but enough of his surprises. I held out my right hand, palm up and he put a key in it. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Key to my apartment,” he said.

I blinked. Was he serious?

“There’s only two of those. Mine and… yours, if you want it.” He shrugged.

I swallowed. This was so much bigger than him proposing or giving me a new job. It almost made me forget about my Uncle. I slowly closed my fingers around the key and felt my lips curl into a smile.

“Go upstairs and wait for me while I deal with that fuckhead Felix,” Negan said, mirroring my smile.

I didn’t know what to say. Had he seriously just given me the key to his apartment? This felt big. And Negan dealing with my Uncle… I would have preferred if I didn’t have to see Uncle Felix ever again, but after that, Negan dealing with him was probably the next best thing.

I went upstairs to the fifth floor and was halfway to Negan’s apartment when one of his wives came out of her room and stopped abruptly when she saw me. She was so pretty, it almost hurt. Her skin looked like porcelain, pale, even, perfectly flawless, her hair was dark, long and shiny and her face… her eyes looked huge and innocent, her lips full and lush. Negan could have her every night and he chose me. Why the fuck? Next to her I felt like a plain Jane.

She looked me up and down but said nothing as I passed her, giving her my brightest smile. Only when I stepped towards the door to Negan’s apartment did she make a step towards me… before she noticed I had a key.

Her mouth formed a perfect O of surprise and she looked as if she wanted to say something, but didn’t quite know what.

I didn’t wait for her to make up her mind and stepped inside, quickly locking the door behind me. I hoped she wouldn’t give Negan any trouble. She wouldn’t if she knew what was good for her.

I sat down and stretched my neck and shoulders. I hadn’t even realized I had missed the place. It had only been a week after all. It was one of the few places I only had pleasant memories of. War and Peace still lay where I had last put it. I thought of reading a little while I waited but decided for a shower instead. It would take Negan a while to compliment Uncle Felix out of the building, so I had some time to kill.

The water was hot, the pressure perfect. I spent what felt like hours just letting the hot water run over my body and soothe my sore muscles. No one could tell me to hurry up here, it didn’t smell bad and there were no critters. This was pure luxury.

“Mind if I join you?”

I startled so bad, I almost slipped before I caught myself against the wall.

“Shit, are you okay?” Negan said.

“Yea… fine,” I muttered. Only then did I notice he wore nothing but his boxers and was really asking to join me.

“I…” I muttered. “I can… I can go, I’m all done.”

“I’d rather you stay,” he said and pulled down his boxers.

Fuck.

He was naked and so so close.

His dick was… right there.

“You good?” He stepped into the shower, but kept his distance as much as possible in the small space, giving me time to adjust to his presence.

I nodded. I could do this.

Pulling my glance upwards, I focused on his chest and arms and shoulders… and his neck… and his mouth… I stepped closer and kissed him, making sure not to get too close below my hips. It made for an awkward position, but I was an awkward person, so it fit.

Negan’s arms moved around me and pulled me close. So much for keeping my distance.

I was very aware of… him, but found I didn’t mind as much as I’d thought I would. Everything was wet and slippery and hot and I let my arms slide up and down his back, enjoying the sensation. He was well muscled and his skin was nice and smooth. I didn’t know why I felt the sudden urge to turn him around and just lick him from his tailbone to his neck.

The picture inside my head of me doing just that made me realize something else: I had never even touched his butt.

Closely watching his face, I did just that, guessing this was probably a more accepted thing to do in polite society.

His expression was priceless, going from surprised to pleased and he pulled me close again, making the water run over both our heads as we kissed. I had seen a Tarzan Movie as a child where Tarzan and Jane had done just the same under a waterfall in a lush, green jungle. I had envied them for the bond they shared and wanted to kiss someone just like that ever since… someone I trusted not to hurt me, to protect me even. And here I was, almost reenacting that scene.

“What are you thinking about?” Negan asked his usual question, noticing my faraway expression.

“Tarzan and Jane,” I muttered, half grinning, half embarrassed.

Negan snorted.

“What are you thinking about?” I gave his question back for the first time ever. Served him right for laughing at me.

He hesitated and for a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer me. “Simon.”

“Simon?” I chuckled. “Why?”

“So I won’t scare you again.” He motioned to his waistline.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He nodded.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me!” I kissed him again, pulling him close. There was no other way I could express what his thinking of Simon so he would stay soft meant to me.

“Careful there! Simon can only do so much…” Negan muttered against my mouth.

I wanted to tell him I didn’t care, but wasn’t sure if I really didn’t. I pulled back a little, but didn’t quite let go of him.

He looked down at me and licked his lips, slowly shaking his head. “Damn, you don’t even know how gorgeous you are.”

I blushed. What was he talking about? Gorgeous… I might be a lot of things, but gorgeous wasn’t one of them. “Stop that…” I muttered, looking at the ground. “I saw one of your… wives earlier. SHE was gorgeous. Me, I’m… just me,” I shrugged.

“Don’t compare yourself to any of them. A pair of fucking boobs might be gorgeous, but so is a nice ass and they look nothing alike, you get what I mean?”

I laughed. He was right. “Thank you for being so patient with me,” I said.

“Worth it, so far.” He bent his head to kiss me again.

I let my arms slide around him and down over his butt and on a whim, to his front.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, biting his lip.

“Just… trying how far I… if you don’t mind,” I swallowed and stopped my moving, waiting for his consent.

“As far as you want to go,” he said and put his hands left and right on my waist, watching me as I explored his body.

I looked down again and continued my path. His hair was short, neatly trimmed. I felt like an animal next to him, but up until a week ago, shaving hadn’t been on my mind at all and I didn’t have access to a razor.

He hissed when I let my finger slide into his hair and over his shaft, careful, barely brushing over the smooth skin. I had forgotten how smooth the skin there was. His dick twitched.

My breath sped up another notch and I pulled my hand away. The voice in my head screamed to run. I was naked with a man and I had aroused him. How could I have been so stupid?

My Uncle’s face appeared before my inner eye, how he had told me he’d give me a treat if I kept our secret. I took a step backwards and pulled the shower door open.

Negan let me go without protest. Of course he did. He wasn’t an asshole. I grabbed a towel and ran out of the bathroom, to the window. Opening it, I took a few deep breaths. It had started raining again and the air was fresh and cool. Everything was good. I was with Negan. My Uncle was somewhere outside.

Shit. He was somewhere outside.

I stepped back from the window. I wasn’t safe here, I had to…

No.

I saw the key in the lock and remembered where I was. The door was locked. Nobody could get in. Negan would kill anyone who tried to hurt me. I was good.

All was good.

The water was turned off and Negan came out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. “Are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry!” I couldn’t keep doing this to him! His balls must be blue as fuck.

“Why?”

“Because I keep doing this,” I sighed.

“So far you’ve done nothing I didn’t enjoy,” he muttered and took a couple steps towards me, his hand hovering just above my shoulder. “May I?”

I looked at him and tears filled my eyes. I slowly nodded. I wanted him to touch me, to hold me. To make me feel safe again… to make me stop thinking about my Uncle.

“You’ve been hurt… but you’re working through it. It’s alright. I mean, look at you.” He stepped close and embraced me. “Two weeks ago you wouldn’t have been able to fucking touch me. Hell, you couldn’t even look at me.”

“Why are you so nice to me?” I put my arms around him and my head against his chest.

“We have all been hurt. I had to work through my shit too. Wasn’t pleasant, I’m telling you…”

I sniffled.

“My first wife, Lucille, she had cancer,” he said, his face taking on a faraway look. “She was in damn bad shape already when everything started turning to shit. Then people started turning and doctors had better things to do than treat a dying woman.” He sighed. “I watched her fucking wither and fade, Clara. She was in so much fucking pain and I could do a shitload of nothing to help her. All I could do was watch her fucking die. I swore to myself I would never put myself in that position again. Being fucking powerless…” He slowly shook his head, nostrils flaring. “You remind me of myself. You were made powerless for so damn long by some asshole that should have fucking protected you but chose to take advantage of you instead. Working through your shit takes time but you’re getting stronger each day and I have fucking first row seats watching you grow.”

I didn’t move. Was it possible he could be right? I was working through this, wasn’t I? I had lived with the pain for too long... had let it eat me up from the inside.

“One of these days, you’re gonna ask me to borrow Lucille and bash your assfaced Uncle’s head in. And I’ll be there and fucking cheer you on, you can count on that!”

I chuckled. That might be a tad extreme… or not…

“I’m fucking serious! You might not see it, but I do. You’re growing. And not like a flower, but like a fucking wildfire!”

Hearing him talk like this… knowing he believed those things of me… it made me feel something. Something… good.

I got up on tiptoe and kissed him.

Our kiss lingered and I started steering him backwards in the direction of the bed. He let me push him to seating and I climbed on top of him until he came to lie on his back. Both our towels had gone missing somewhere, but I didn’t care. The way he saw me… I wanted to do everything in my power to see myself the same way. Like a survivor. Strong and growing stronger.

Negan put his arms behind his head and made himself comfortable while I kept on kissing him, tasting him, nipping at his skin. He had a relaxed half smile on his face and his eyes were closed. He visibly enjoyed what I was doing and I enjoyed it too… until he got excited.

I could bear being near him when he was hard, but I couldn’t bear touching him. Not yet. Taking deep, slow breaths, I climbed off of him. Everything was good. I was safe.

Negan looked down on himself and up at my face. The part of me that expected him to push me on my back and just push my knees open and force himself on me was still there, but it was so much smaller than it had been a few weeks ago. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me and I loved him for that.

“You alright?” he asked.

I nodded and lay down next to him.

+++

I woke up to someone kissing my neck. Giving a soft moan, I leaned my head back to give him better access. The stubble around his lips scratched over my skin in the most pleasant way.

“Damn, I liked you so much better about 15 years ago…”

I froze.

That wasn’t Negan’s voice.

I opened my eyes.

No.

This was impossible!

Uncle Felix… I shoved him away and pulled my blanket up and…

+++

… woke up with a gasp.

Fuck.

“Are you okay?” Negan asked pushing up to his elbows, sleepily rubbing his eyes. It was still mostly dark outside, with only the very first rays of sunshine illuminating the horizon.

“Yea… just had a nightmare,” I muttered, hugging myself under the blanket.

“Come here,” Negan said and reached for me.

Shaking my head, I pulled away. I had to get some clothes.

Negan’s T-Shirt he’d worn yesterday was in a heap on the floor with the rest of his clothes. I pulled it over my head and instantly felt a lot better. Clothes meant safety, especially if they smelled of Negan.

The bed rustled as he lay down again and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. He watched me with tired eyes as I made my way back to bed.

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked as I snuggled up against him. He spooned me and the sense of doom I had been feeling a second ago slowly left me.

“Uncle Felix…” I courtly answered. I didn’t want to talk about it.

“Shit,” Negan muttered. “I’m sorry for bringing him here, if I had known…”

“Yea, but you didn’t,” I interrupted him, half turning towards him. “Forget about it. You dealt with him. At least he won’t be able to hurt anyone else…”

“Accept your new Job,” Negan said.

“What?” Why did he have to start with that now?

“The doors on the third floor lock. And you’ll be allowed to carry a gun. You can defend yourself.”

“I don’t even know how to shoot.” I snuggled deeper into the blanket. Did I WANT to carry a gun?

“It’s pretty straightforward,” he muttered. “Draw, aim, pull the trigger.”

I pondered this for a moment. Starting a new job, moving into a new flat, carrying a fucking gun… I wasn’t sure if I liked all of it, but having a room with a lock… I would feel a lot better! And I’d have my own bed too, even on the days I didn’t stay with Negan…

“You still awake?”

I nodded. “Well… yea, I’ll do it, I guess. When do I start?”

“As soon as the sun fucking rises!”


	5. Learning to just let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara decides she wants to face her fears... this backfires... literally.  
> Negan is mad... but for other reasons than one might think.

A couple of days had passed since my promotion. I had moved into my new quarters and Negan and Simon had given me a couple shooting lessons so I wouldn’t hurt myself with my new weapon. I had forgotten what brand it was as soon as they had told me, but it was shiny and heavy and it made me feel powerful.

My new job was… interesting. I had spent two days just watching Simon do his thing, then we had switched. He kept on criticizing how I was too nice to people, and as more and more ridiculous “problems” were carried towards me, I got what he was talking about.

The “problems” were bordering on ridiculous. One couple complained how they didn’t like their mattress, a woman whined about the water not getting hot enough, and a guy had seen a mouse in the mess hall. I wanted to ask them where they had gotten the drugs they were on for complaining about such things, and Simon encouraged me to do just that, but I decided to be nice and reminded them how lucky they were to have a safe roof over their head instead of being out with the Walkers and sent them away.

“I’ll give you a month until you stop that,” Simon muttered on our way to lunch. I had felt bad for “rising” through the ranks and eating with the Lieutenants and everyone above in a separate room, but not for long. No one downstairs had ever given a shit about me, so why should I care about them now?

Negan’s wives got their food in their own living room, so it was only me and three other women in a room full of men during meals. A couple weeks ago that would have made me uneasy. Now, I didn’t really care anymore. A few of them obviously disliked me for sitting with them since I wasn’t a proper fighter but most just treated me as an equal, teasing me like they did everyone else.

It was odd, but for the first time since this whole apocalypse thing had started I felt like I belonged.

My new job didn’t have fixed hours. I had an office, a former storage room that had a table and two chairs and neither a door nor a window, in which I was supposed to receive people, but mostly people just approached me whenever and wherever I encountered them.

It was as Negan had said. A lot less work, but also a lot more annoying. I was glad I had my meds. I wouldn’t have been able to take this without them.

My new room was about twice as big as the one I had shared with Lissa, which still didn’t make it very big, but I didn’t mind that at all. I had my own bed and a sink and the ladies’ communal showers on the third floor were only used by me and the three female lieutenants, so all in all, I was a lot more comfortable than I had been before.

I had just sent away a questionably looking guy who had asked me for meds to help with his back pain. Guys like him made it easy to follow Simon’s advice and tell them to fuck off and try to sell their act on Broadway.

There were real problems, of course, like the woman that had just had a baby when her husband had died at the bullet factory and now had no way to provide for them. I did my best to come up with a solution for her and told her to come back tomorrow. People like her made the job worthwhile. Most of the others just made me aggressive.

No one else was waiting to talk to me, so I got up to get some fresh air. My gun sat in its holster on my hip since Negan had made me promise to have it with me all the time. I liked the weight of it, but I didn’t like the way it made people look at me. I had taken to wearing oversized sweaters to cover it whenever I was planning to go among people. 

It was warm outside and I regretted my choice of clothing as soon as I stepped into the sunshine. Did I really need that sweater? I walked around a bit and stretched my shoulders, staying in the shade mostly, where it was bearable. There were too many people around, working in the garden, harvesting fruit.

They seemed happy about the weather. It had been raining for too long and we needed a good crop if we wanted to get through the winter. On last count, there were more than 600 people living in the Sanctuary! That number seemed impossible, but we seemed to manage somehow, so far.

Negan and a group of men had been gone for two days, Simon had left earlier today with another group, both scavenging for more food, making sure no one went hungry and we had enough weapons and medicine and whatever else they came upon.

Winters were always hard, but for the two years I’d been here, we had been doing okay. Negan had made sure of that and I trusted he would continue to do so.

I didn’t know why my feet carried me towards the pigs. I hadn’t been paying attention and was surprised to see the fence before me. Normally the smell would have been a dead giveaway, but the wind had been blowing my hair in my face and the smell away from me.

Pigs and men walked around behind the fence, equally muddy. The bipeds looked at me with open dislike. The pigs didn’t give a shit.

I walked to the gate and told the guards my name and that I was here to talk to Uncle Felix. Word about my promotion had spread and they let me pass with minimal questions.

“Doc Felix, your Niece is here to see you!” One of them called out and Uncle Felix, looking more disheveled than ever, came towards us. He didn’t look happy to see me at all.

“What do you want?” he said. “Want to gloat some more about bringing your old Uncle into this fucking shithole?”

I shook my head. “I’m here to talk.”

Felix moved closer and I took a step backwards to keep my distance. I wanted to talk, but I didn’t want him to touch me.

A broad smile appeared on his face. I was scared of him… and he liked it.

I had thought facing my fears was a good thing to do, but I might have made a tiny mistake there.

Uncle Felix grabbed my wrist and pulled me after him. Away from the guards, away from the exit. There were a couple of makeshift huts the pigs and the prisoners lived in and Uncle Felix pulled me towards a group of sturdier looking ones.

Fuck!

What had I done?

I was such a fucking idiot!

Other prisoners noticed us but didn’t do anything to help either me or Felix. Seemed like it was every man for themselves at the pigs’. Human nature never changed. They enjoyed drama, especially if it didn’t directly concern them. Uncle Felix pulling me through their prison was probably a welcome change of scenery for them.

Felix pushed me into one of the huts. Its insides vaguely resembled a human shelter with a raised platform where something that vaguely resembled a bed stood. The ground was littered with straw and it was disgustingly dirty everywhere. I’d rather go to the dungeons than live like this.

“I always knew you are a stupid shit… but coming here, to talk,…” He crowded me backwards until my back hit the wall. The whole hut seemed to shake with the small impact. “Maybe I shouldn’t have dropped you on your head so often when you were a fucking baby.” His breath stank of… something I couldn’t quite pin down.

I stopped trying to, when he put his hand to my throat.

Uncle Felix, same as I, wasn’t very big or tall, but he had a wiry strength about him that I couldn’t match. Of course he had. He had lived and survived in the world outside while I had been sheltered in here. He’d probably had to develop some muscle out there or he wouldn’t have been able to survive.

Why had I come here? I wanted to slap myself.

“I…” I couldn’t say much more, his fingers tightening around my throat made it impossible to talk.

“I… I…” he mocked, grimacing at me. He clearly enjoyed this. “You what? You think you’re someone now, fucking that asshole Negan? You think that makes you important or what? Is he better than I was? You want a brush-up so you can compare?”

He started fumbling on my belt with his free hand. Hell no!

I struggled against his grip, trying to work my fingers under his, gasping for air.

Black spots started to swim over my field of vision. I couldn’t let this happen! I tried kicking him, but he was quick to evade my feet.

I got dizzy.

I had to get out of here fast or he would...

Somehow I managed to reach for my gun with shaky hands. Fuck my limbs were getting heavy. I couldn’t breathe! My brain would shut down soon! If I dropped the gun now, I’d be dead… or worse.

Felix noticed my weapon and tried slapping it out of my hand, to take it away from me.

I held on to it like Negan had shown me. He had spent an hour explaining to me how important it was to have a tight grip and now I understood why.

Clenching my teeth, I pulled the gun up as far as I could, which wasn’t very far at all, considering Uncle Felix did his best to keep my hand down.

The edges of my vision were turning black. I was running out of time. Twisting my wrist, I pressed the muzzle of the gun against Uncle Felix’s thigh and pulled the trigger.

I had been prepared for the recoil, but I was holding the gun at an awkward angle and with only one hand. My wrist screamed with pain. I didn’t care.

I had hit him.

Uncle Felix let go of my throat and stumbled backwards, eyes wide. A bloodstain was rapidly growing on Felix’s leg and he looked between it and me, anger twisting his face.

I didn’t care. Shakily, I pulled the gun up and kept aiming at him as he went down to his knees.

He was losing a lot of blood. Good!

Footsteps were coming closer. I had the door in my field of vision, but my main focus remained on Felix. He was focused on stopping the blood flow, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still do some damage.

The guards came running and stepped inside, assessing the situation. They looked between Felix and me and my gun. One took me by the elbow and escorted me towards the exit, the other stayed with Felix. I wasn’t sure what they’d do to him. And I found I didn’t much care. If he died, I was all for it.

+++

By the next morning I had developed a nice set of bruises all around my neck. Negan was supposed to be back today. He wouldn’t like this. Shit. Would he be mad at me for doing something so stupid? Or would he be proud for facing my fears?

I put on a scarf when I went for breakfast, hoping the others hadn’t heard about my expedition.

They HAD heard of course. What other possibility was there? We didn’t have TV! Gossip was the best kind of entertainment available. And if they had heard, Negan would hear all about it as well. Shit!

+++

Negan was back by lunchtime.

I had taken my food back to my room to avoid him. If he had to scream at me, I didn’t want him to do so in front of everyone.

It worked. He screamed at me in my own room.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He fingered my scarf to get a look at my neck and I pushed his probing fingers away and took it off, letting him see the full extent of the bruises. One on the left, four on the right, where Felix’s fingers had dug into my flesh.

“I… I wanted to be strong! Face my fears,” I muttered, stepping out of Negan’s reach.

“Face your fears? And you had to choose the fucking stupidest way to go about that?” His anger made him seem that much taller. The room seemed too small to contain him.

“I thought… I didn’t…”

“You thought what?” He towered over me and in that moment I wasn’t sure about him never ever hurting me.

“I didn’t think…”

“Yea, seems like you didn’t! Fucking shit!” He turned around and punched the wall, leaving a bloody imprint of his knuckles on the plaster.

I winced. I had to get out of here!

“Can’t I leave you alone for three fucking days without you trying to fucking kill yourself?”

“I didn’t…” I whimpered. I wouldn’t start crying now! If I did, I’d lose face in front of him completely. I was one of his inner circle now. I couldn’t show weakness.

Negan walked the length of the room and turned back around.

The anger in his face made me take a step backwards and pull my hands up in front of my chest. I half expected him to grab me and choke me just like Uncle Felix had done.

Instead, Negan grabbed my upper arm. “You can’t bring yourself in danger on fucking purpose!”

“I didn’t think it would end that way!” I finally managed to get out a full sentence.

“But it fucking did!” He took my second arm and shook me. “And now we got that useless piece of shit in the med ward, using up fucking resources we don’t have and all because of your fucking stupidity!” His grip tightened as he spoke.

I hadn’t even thought about that. Meds weren’t an infinite resource anymore. We had to be frugal with what we had. “I didn’t think of that.”

“And that’s the fucking problem!” He let go of my right arm, but kept on holding to my left one.

“You… you’re hurting me,” I muttered, trying to struggle free of his grip.

“Do I look like I fucking care?” He squeezed even tighter.

The way he lifted up his arm made me cringe. He wouldn’t hurt me! He couldn’t! He had promised!

“All you fucking women do is make fucking problems! Why are you so damn stupid?”

Okay, now he was getting mean. I obviously wasn’t the problem anymore, I was only the person he took his anger out on. That was unfair.

“All you do is take, take, take and never give anything the fuck back!” His grip got tighter again, and he shook me with every word. I half expected smoke to start rising from his nostrils.

“Oww! You really…” I tried getting his fingers off of me, but he kept on holding me.

He took a step towards me and pressed me against the wall. Just like Uncle Felix had done. I swallowed and blinked back my tears. Negan wouldn’t hurt me! He never would! He had promised!

I started shaking. Negan was so much stronger than me, if he decided to…

“Please don’t hurt me,” I whimpered, pulling my arms up as far as his grip allowed and trying to shield myself.

That seemed to get through to him. His eyes widened when he realized what he was doing and he stepped back and let go of my arm. “Shit, I’m sorry Clara!” He gently put his arm on my shoulder, but I stepped to the side, out of his reach.

“Don’t touch me!” I cried out, hugging myself.

“Clara, I…” His voice was so much softer than it had been a minute ago, but I still didn’t want him anywhere close.

“Leave me alone!”

“I didn’t want to scare you! I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” I repeated, pushing him towards the door. I couldn’t bear being alone with him for a second longer.

Negan opened the door and turned back around to look at me one last time before he left.

I turned the key behind him and broke down on my bed. My arm pounded where he had held me. The man I had thought I could trust had hurt me, just like everyone else would. I hated him. Fuck I should never have trusted him!

+++

It had gotten dark outside. I had woken because someone knocked on my door. Hard. I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to die. And quick. Fuck!

The cuts on my arm had scabbed over and were on a good way towards healing. I scratched the crusts off with shaky fingers. I knew it was bad, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to. I needed to feel myself.

It hurt… blood welled up through the not quite healed skin. I had hoped I’d feel relief, but I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything.

The bad thoughts were coming back. I didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole again… but being dead would be so much easier. All my problems would be solved. All my anxiety would be gone. I knew no one would miss me. Why would they? Nobody cared about me. Tears started flowing again and I shook all over. I didn’t want to go on living like this. I didn’t have the energy!

Another knock. “Clara!” A female voice. “Are you alright?” Was this Doctor Sam?

“What… what do you want?” I muttered.

“Negan… told me to come look after you.”

I frowned, but slowly got up from my bed, wiping my bloody arm on my shirt.

I turned the key and the door was pushed open. Negan stormed in, passing the appalled looking Doctor Sam. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she slowly walked inside.

I turned to Negan, shooting him a questioning glance. “What the fuck?”

He grabbed my wrist and looked at my bloody arm. Shit. “Is that all you did?”

I pulled out of his grasp and hid my arm behind my back. “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?”

“Yes! I mean… all I do is make problems for you anyways… and take take take,” I gave back his earlier accusations.

“You can leave us alone,” he said to Doctor Sam. My scratches weren’t serious enough to need medical attention.

She nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do, thank you,” Negan said.

Doctor Sam closed the door behind us and we were left alone again.

I crossed my arms before me and looked up at him. “So?”

He stared at me, nostrils flaring. He had looked angry when he’d come inside, but his face softened as I watched. “I care,” he said. His voice was soft as well.

“Yea, sure, whatever,” I muttered, turning away from him. Words. Empty words. My arm still pounded where he had grabbed me earlier. I would never forgive him this!

“Clara,” he put his hand on my shoulder, gently. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,”

“You know what you can do with your excuses?” I turned around so I could see how my words would hurt him. I wanted him to hurt! “You can take them and stick them up your…” Negan’s lips on mine stopped me from finishing the sentence.

I pulled away. What the fuck? I looked at him, eyes wide, shaking my head. “What the fuck?”

Negan took a deep breath. He sat down on my bed and patted the spot next to him for me to join him. “Let’s start this over,” he said.

I sat down, consciously leaving some space between us and crossed my arms.

“I care if you hurt yourself or if someone else hurts you, a lot,” he said.

“Yea, you said so. But you still haven’t answered my question: WHY?”

“Because…” he hesitated, “because I fucking love you!”

My eyes went wide. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!”

“But you… Why? How?”

“Hell if I know. All I know is I can hardly function out there, when I’m not with you!”

I shook my head. He loved me? Why? “What am I supposed to do with that information?”

“Hell if I fucking know!” He seemed angry, but his anger felt different than it had earlier. He was using it to cover up something else. He had just made himself vulnerable in front of me. He had given me power over him.

He hated it.

And I loved him for it. But did I love HIM? “I… I don’t know if I love you too,” I admitted. I had never thought about loving anyone. I liked Negan… a lot. I missed him when he wasn’t with me. No matter what happened, I wanted to tell him first. But was that love? How could I even love him when he had five fucking wives!

Negan looked sad, hurt almost.

I moved towards him and put my head on his shoulder. He loved me. Negan fucking loved me!

He put his arm around my back and I closed the last distance between us. He loved me.

I put my arm around him, which brought my face close to his. He loved me. I kissed him.

Negan reached around me and cradled my face, deepening our kiss. His lips were greedy and demanding and he tasted of Whiskey and cigarettes. He had smoked! Because of our fight?

I let my hand glide downwards over his face and neck and over his chest. I wanted to touch more of him. My hands wandered under his shirt and pushed it up. He loved me!

I felt him grin against me and he pulled back to pull his shirt over his head. I did the same. Fuck, I wanted him. I had forgotten how pleasant it was to feel safe because of him and not because of the weapon I was now allowed to carry.

Negan pulled me onto his lap and let his hands move up from my hips over my waist to my breasts, greedily cupping them and putting his face in between, inhaling my scent. I had never felt more desired and desirable.

I let my hands dig into his hair, grabbing handfuls of it before scratching down over his back with my fingernails.

“Fuck.” He shivered pleasantly and moved up to kiss my mouth again while his hands moved around my body to unhook my bra.

I inhaled sharply as he pushed the straps down my arms.

Something pushed against me from below and I felt something cramp inside of me in reply. I was scared, but my desire easily overpowered my fear. It was a simple calculation. I wanted him. Because he loved me. Because he cared.

I started fumbling around with my belt and unbuttoned my pants with shaking hands. Negan watched me greedily as I got up off of him to pull them down my legs. He stopped me when I went to sit down on his lap again, fully naked, and got up to lock the door. Good thinking.

“Can you…” I muttered, but instead of finishing the sentence, I sat down again and pulled him close by the waistband of his jeans. Unbuckling his pants, I eagerly pulled them down together with his boxers.

“Hot damn,” he muttered, looking down at me.

Our gazes met for just a second. My sitting before him brought his dick to my eyelevel. He was fully erect, the tip glistening with his lust. I swallowed.

He didn’t move, just waited, watched, gently playing with a strand of my hair.

I let my hand travel over his ass and forward, looking up at him insecurely.

He let out a soft moan when I first touched his dick. It twitched and another drop of precum formed on its head. I had an impulse to lick it off, but wasn’t sure if that was too much. Not for Negan, but for me. I didn’t want to risk my fear taking over again. I wanted to do this. Here. Now.

Making up my mind, I let my fingers travel over the full length of his shaft, watching his face as I wrapped my hand around him, how he closed his eyes with pleasure. I liked that… how I could give him pleasure so easily.

“Negan…” I whispered.

His only reply was a long drawn sigh.

“I want you inside of me.”

His dick twitched in my hand in reply.

“Come here.” I moved back on my bed and he took a moment to open his eyes and slowly join me. My bed was a lot smaller than his, but that didn’t matter to either of us.

We wanted to be close, as close as possible.

He let his fingers glide over my body, from my abused neck downwards over my sternum, my navel and between my legs. I eagerly spread them for him.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, carefully tracing my outer edge.

I nodded. “Yes!”

He slowly pushed one probing finger inside of me. Gently, carefully.

My hips lifted up against him. I wanted more. So much more.

Reaching around his shoulders, I pulled him down for a kiss and he climbed on top of me, spreading my legs with his knees.

He cupped my face and I smelled myself on his fingers.

My legs quivered with anticipation. I was scared but my want was stronger. He wouldn’t hurt me. He loved me. I whimpered at the thought.

“You alright?” Negan pulled away so he could look at my face.

I nodded. “D… do it… but be careful!” I was shaking all over. Okay, maybe I was more scared than I’d thought.

“Are you sure?” He had noticed my shaking as well.

“Yes…” I whispered.

He let one hand glide downwards along the length of my body and pulled up my thigh, then did the same on the other side, always watching my face for any sign of discomfort. I had never felt anything so intimate as this, us, staring into each other’s eyes as we held each other, naked, exposed, so close and yet not close enough by far.

And in the back of my mind, always the one thought: He loved me.

I felt his dick against my entrance and took a deep inhale. Everything was good. He wouldn’t hurt me. He loved me. Fuck I wanted him!

Without my consciously thinking about it, my legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him down, against me. Inside me.

We moaned in unison. Fuck this felt good. How could something feel this good?

“Fucking you’re tight,” Negan exclaimed.

I wanted to ask him if that was a bad thing, but judging by his expression, it wasn’t. He moved inside of me, slowly, gently, easing his way inside.

I whimpered with pleasure. This felt so right. I felt so good in his hands, so secure. He loved me!

“You alright?” Negan asked again.

“Yes…” I nodded. I reached my hands around him and let them glide over his back, enjoying the feeling of his muscles under my fingers as he slowly pulled out again. He was so in control of himself, it was beautiful.

He pushed into me again, faster this time. It made me cry out.

Negan stopped. “Did I hurt you?”

“No… keep going… You’re not going to break me,” I tightened my legs around him and pulled him close again.

We found rhythm, moving together as one. I closed my eyes and enjoyed this hitherto unknown way of sex. No. This wasn’t sex. This was making love. I had never understood how there was a difference. Now I did.

The first time he touched my clit made me flinch. My eyes opened and I watched him watch me, a look of intense concentration on his face. I felt that sense of something inside of me clenching again.

And he seemed to feel it too, considering how he jerked against me. “Hell fucking yea,” he muttered, bending down to kiss me again. Just once, very sloppily, but it was good.

He never stopped moving his hips. When he pulled my hips in the air, I put my legs down and supported myself. He reached for my clit again and gently rubbed over it with his thumb.

I didn’t know that was a thing that men did, but damn I liked it! I really did! I didn’t know if I could hold my position for very long if he kept it up. I already felt my legs start to shake. This feeling of losing control… I loved it and hated it…

Negan changed his angle and all my thinking stopped. My hips buckled against him as he hit that one spot inside of me…

“You like that?” he grinned.

I wanted to answer him, but all that came out was a deep, long drawn moan.

Negan understood me just well enough and did the same again, hitting my spot and letting his thumb flick over my clit.

“More!” I whimpered.

“Your wish is my command,” he laughed and picked up speed.

Oh my god! This was… incredible! I lost control over my left leg and barely caught myself before I dropped off the bed.

“Careful there,” Negan muttered, holding on to my waist with strong hands. He bent down and kissed my neck and my breast.

He gently bit my hard nipple and touched me down under, rubbing over my spot a little and I lost all control. He kept up what he was doing for what felt like a second and an hour at the same time. My legs and feet uncontrollably shook against the bed, my toes cramping and my fingernails dug into his back, holding on to him as if he was my one tether to reality.

Negan pulled out of me and I wanted to cry out with the feeling of loss. I reached after him when he got up and moved to my sink. What was he doing?

He grabbed his dick and rubbed a couple of times and came into the sink with a low groan, supporting himself against the wall. I hadn’t even thought about the need for contraception, if the pull-out method could even be considered that.

Turning around, he took a moment to look me over before I could grab the blanket and hide under it. “Too late to hide,” he muttered. “It’s all saved in there.” He pointed at his temple.

I laughed.

He lay down next to me and I put my blanket over us both. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?”

“Just… being patient and… for… for loving me, I guess…”

He kissed my temple in reply.

“Is it okay I haven’t said it back? I mean… I never said it to anyone… I… I don’t know what love even feels like… but I like you a lot and I really really enjoy spending time with you and I missed you so much the past few days…”

“And you trust me,” Negan added.

“That’s true…”

He kissed me, lazy, sloppy, enjoying the shit out of that kiss, before he talked again. “If that’s how you feel, there’s no need to say it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! Right?


	6. Learning about Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend appears.   
> He brings new skills to the community and will bring back all kind of memories.   
> And! Negan still loves Clara! Who'd have thought, right?

“Fuck, really?” I exclaimed. “I didn’t think that was a thing that could happen in real life!”

Negan had just told me my bullet had gone straight through one of my uncle’s balls and as if that hadn’t been enough, the wound had gotten infected and they’d probably have to amputate his whole ball sack.

I tried not to feel schadenfreude, but didn’t quite manage to.

“Well, it has,” Negan dryly said. He still acted as if he was mad, but it didn’t feel a hundred percent genuine.

“I would really like to feel bad for him, but… no, you know what? I don’t, actually!” I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head.

“You could have gotten hurt!” Negan said, mirroring my pose.

“But I didn’t.”

“Yea? How’s that wrist of yours?”

I had held the gun at an awkward angle and the recoil had lightly bruised my wrist. It had hurt for a couple of days, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

“How do you even know about that? You’ve been gone for almost a week!”

“I got eyes and ears everywhere. Keep that in mind next time you attempt to do something so stupid!”

“But I faced my fears and neutered my molester. You should be proud!”

Negan took a deep inhale. “As your lover, I am very proud. As your leader, I strongly condemn what you did.”

As my lover… I liked that. Lover…

This was our first evening alone since THE night five days ago. Negan had had to go out the morning after we had made beautiful, beautiful love and had only come back late last night.

I had asked him for an appointment under the pretext of wanting to discuss a couple problems people had brought to me that I needed his advice on before I could do anything about them. We had talked over them in fast forward so it had taken all of fifteen minutes.

That had been two hours ago.

Negan had ordered food and drink which we might or might not have eaten with me sitting on his lap. We could have gone to his apartment of course, but chances of being interrupted by someone on our way were simply too big to risk it. So we remained where we were, me on his lap, kissing, petting, losing ourselves in each other’s eyes.

He loved me. I didn’t know why or how, but it didn’t matter. The important thing was: he loved me.

A knock on the door made Negan pull away. “Yes?”

A guard I had met before but whose name I had never bothered to remember stepped inside. “The new prisoner asks to talk to you, Sir.” he said.

“What does he want?”

I slowly got to my feet. Seemed like our tête-à-tête was over.

“He says he knows how to fix the problem in our bullet factory.”

“And where would he have heard about that problem?”

The guard hesitated. “I wouldn’t know… Sir.”

Negan got to his feet and reached for Lucille where she had been resting in the corner behind his desk.

The guard pressed his back against the door as if it might swallow him when Negan and I passed him.

“Go wait for me in my room,” he said, not bothering to turn towards me.

I took a couple quick steps so I was level with him. “I got a woman who lost her husband in the bullet factory a couple days ago. This concerns me as much as it does you.”

Negan was visibly annoyed. A couple weeks ago that would have made me back off. Interestingly enough, it didn’t any longer.

+++

The kitchen was on the first floor. Most of the sleeping quarters were one level below, with windows just above ground level. I had known there was another level beneath that. I just had never been down there.

There was a first time for everything.

Electric lights illuminated the corridors, but only barely so. It smelled of sweat and desperation… and mold. Being down here for longer than a few hours definitely wouldn’t be healthy.

We strode towards two armed guards behind a small metal desk who, upon realizing it was Negan coming towards them, stepped back and didn’t bother asking questions.

Negan took a balaclava out of a bin next to the desk and handed it to me.

“Put that on,” he said. Looking me over, he barked at one of the guards to give me their jacket.

“I’m not cold,” I said, taking the jacket and frowning at him.

“Put it on,” Negan ordered. His tone of voice didn’t allow for back talk and I put the jacket on and zipped it up, promising I’d give it back later.

The sleeves were much too long and it was baggy on me, but if the balaclava was any indication, Negan didn’t want the prisoners to be able to recognize me. The jacket would definitely make recognizing me harder. Not impossible, but… harder.

“Keys,” Negan ordered and the guard whose jacket I wore took a keyring from a desk drawer, no questions asked. Negan nodded to me to take the keys and I took them.

“Which cell’s the new guy in?” he asked.

“15. It’s in…”

“I know where the fucking cells are, asshole. I fucking numbered them!” Negan barked and started walking again, taking a flashlight from the table and handing it to me as well.

It bordered on ridiculous how different he acted around his men in comparison to how he acted when we were alone. Out here, he was the big and scary leader, carrying his weapon openly and with pride. When we were alone, he was my protector and generous lover; unarmed, unguarded, real.

The numbers, painted on the crude wooden doors with too wet white paint got bigger to our left and smaller to our right. Biggest number had been 40. I wondered if there were prisoners in every cell.

Music blared from behind a couple of doors we passed. Loud, happy happy joy joy kind of music. Was that some kind of joke?

A serving trolley with dirty, dented aluminum plates and rusty, crusted cans stood in one corner as we turned to the left. Either the kitchen had gotten way worse since I’d left or the prisoners were eating dog food. This definitely wasn’t the stuff they served upstairs.

Before I could ask about it, Negan stopped in front of the door with a crudely painted number 15 on it. I stepped forward and unlocked it, looking back over my shoulder before I pushed it open.

It was completely dark inside and at first I thought we had the wrong cell, then I remembered the flashlight I’d put in my jacket pocket for safekeeping. I switched it on and directed the beam into the cell. It fell on a dirty face just above the ground.

The guy squinted at the sudden illumination and I pointed the beam on the ground below him. I saw a thickset body, badly cut, matted hair, thick, dirty cheeks. The face vaguely reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t quite place it.

Negan pushed past me and built himself up in the doorway. “What you got to say?” he said.

“I know how to fix your bullet problem,” the guy answered, squinting up at Negan and sitting up straighter.

“Who says we got a problem?” Negan said, his fingers slowly playing over the grip of his bat. I had seen that move a couple times before and it still made cold shivers run down my body. I could only guess how it must feel seeing it for the first time. Negan wouldn’t hesitate to kill with that bat. And death definitely wouldn’t be a pleasant one.

“I noticed a tendency of your people’s guns not shooting when triggers are pulled.”

I frowned. I had heard that very… specific way of talking before.

“ And I know how to fix that problem.”

“And why the fuck should we trust you?” Negan countered.

“You don’t have a reason to trust me, I will freely admit to that. Still I am offering my help and the only thing I ask for in exchange is to get out of this cell.”

“What’s to keep me from bashing your fucking head in instead?”

I took a step backwards, making the beam of the flashlight dance over the cell walls. If Negan started bashing heads, I was out of here.

“Nothing.” The prisoner said, slowly getting to his feet.

I admired his courage. He must be scared out of his mind.

Negan didn’t seem to care if his opposite sat or crouched or stood. Or if he did, he didn’t show it. “Say we have this particular problem, how would you go about fixing it?” He casually leaned against the doorway, swinging Lucille downwards and letting her tip rest against the floor.

“I will gladly answer all of your questions, as soon as I am out of this cell. I hate to admit to this, but I might have stepped in this cell’s previous tenant’s feces.”

“Fucking shit, eh?” Negan snorted. “Happens to the best of us. Vince! Get your ass over here and bring some fucking handcuffs,” he called.

Vince, the guard who had given me his jacket, came running, a pair of handcuffs dangling from his fingers, a balaclava hiding his face.

“Get that fucker cleaned up and bring him to my office.”

+++

I felt like I still stank of… the dungeons, even after sitting in Negan’s office for ten minutes. Nothing but a long hot shower would get that smell out of my hair again.

Negan was in his swivel chair behind his desk. I had sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs opposite him. Neither of us felt very lovey after our foray downstairs and we went over my cases once more. Thoroughly this time, with me taking notes.

I had managed to acquire a small notebook and guarded it like a hawk. Who’d have thought paper would become valuable ever again?

Both of us looked up when the door was pushed open. The prisoner looked like a wet dog as he was pushed inside, damp hair sticking to his face, wearing an ill-fitting greyish tracksuit, hands cuffed before him. The guard from before, Vince, held him by the elbow and led him to the second visitor’s chair before he himself took up station behind us.

I gave the prisoner only a quick glance before focusing back on my writing again. My pen froze on the page as my brain caught up with who had just sat down next to me.

“Eugene?” I said, looking him over once more. How could I not have recognized that mullet the instant I’d seen him?

He looked at me and recognition flashed over his face. “Clara!” he exclaimed, as far as what he did could be described as exclaim.

“You… survived!” I couldn’t believe he was really sitting here! Growing up, he had lived a couple houses from my grandma’s place. A couple years older than me, socially awkward to the max but not even aware of it, he had found something like a friend in me. And me in him.

“Of course I did,” he stated coolly. “I didn’t expect you to survive this long.”

I snorted. He had never bothered with niceties. “And yet here I am.” I nervously cleared my throat. “Negan, this is Eugene… we used to be friends a long time ago… Eugene, you know who Negan is of course.”

Negan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, placing his legs up on the table.

Had my introductions been alright? Or had I just destroyed the base of Negan’s authority over Eugene?

“Pleasure to formally make your acquaintance,” Eugene, unaware of my inner struggle, said. “I would offer you my hand, but I see myself incapable of doing so with any kind of dignity.” He motioned to his cuffed wrists.

“Boy you sure enjoy hearing yourself talk,” Negan answered.

Okay, good, he didn’t mind me introducing them. He would make Eugene feel his authority one way or the other.

“So, what did you want to fucking propose that you couldn’t downstairs?” Negan continued.

“As previously stated, I happened to witness an above average number of misfires in your men’s guns. Your primers…”

He went on talking about bullets and the technicalities behind bullet-making as if he was talking about baking a cake for Sunday afternoon tea.

As far as I was concerned, he might as well speak Greek. I completely zoned out after about half a minute. That was how a lot of conversations with Eugene had gone during the time of our friendship. He had always loved hearing himself talk; Negan had assessed that correctly. And I had always found the monotone flow of his words very soothing for my anxiety. Plus, spending time with him, at his parents’ house had meant not having to be at my grandma’s house. Thinking about it now I realized, our friendship had probably been more of a community of purpose than anything else.

Both men suddenly looked at me. “Umm... sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I told Eugene you would show him around, since you’re such good friends,” Negan slowly said.

“Umm… yea, sure!”

“He will remain under surveillance for starters,” Negan explained. “And work at the bullet factory.”

“Good, that’s… good,” I said, struggling to focus on the conversation at hand.

“Are you alright?” Negan asked.

“Yea, sorry, just… spaced out a little.”

“Are you under any kind of medication right now?” Eugene asked, glancing at the still healing cuts on my arms.

He had been the one to patch me up more than once when I’d first started hurting myself. And he had been the one to urge me to see a psychiatrist when neither my grandma nor my uncle had bothered with me at all.

I nodded and pulled down the sleeves of my sweater.

“That’s a great relief.”

“Yes, yes, isn’t it all just fucking great,” Negan muttered. “Vince, take him to the men’s quarters.” And turning back to Eugene: “I expect you at the bullet factory tomorrow morning, bright and shiny, you understand me?”

“Yes, sir, I do appreciate the chance to let me show my worth to your organization,” Eugene muttered and got up.

Eugene and his escort left the room and Negan and I were alone again.

“For someone who claims not to like people, you sure have a lot of friends surviving,” he dryly stated.

“Yea, who’d have thought a bunch of rednecks were good at making it through the apocalypse, right?”

Negan snorted. “Right.” He got up from his chair and walked around his desk, reaching his hand for me. “Let’s get out of here before some other fucker walks in here, claiming he’s your fucking cousin or something…”

I flinched at the mention of a cousin.

Negan stopped waited for me to say something. When I didn’t, he pulled me into a hug. He was smart. He had made the connection between my uncle and my cousin and both being fucking assholes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I let my arms slide around his waist and shook my head against his chest. “It’s okay. You couldn’t know.”

+++

We made it to the fifth floor with only minor interruptions. One of the downsides of the leader being my lover.

My lover… What we had, it was special. I didn’t much care for him having wives, but it was how it was. There was me and there were his wives. We didn’t have to label what I was to him or did we? Was I his affair? Was an affair supposed to be secret? Because by now, even the biggest hermit must have heard about us. His wives surely had.

Two of them had invited me to their shared living room. The other three had kicked me out a minute later. I couldn’t exactly blame them. Negan spent the few nights he was home with me rather than with them. Must be frustrating.

A sweet voice called out the second Negan stepped onto the fifth floor corridor. “Negan, honey… and… Clara,” much less sweet, “… so good to see you both.” Amber, one of the three to kick me out welcomed us.

Negan let go of my hand and pulled her into a one armed, somewhat half-hearted hug. He kissed her on the cheek and stepped away again. “What do you want?” he said. He didn’t sound annoyed exactly, but his tone of voice definitely conveyed he wasn’t happy about her waiting for him.

“Just… wanted to welcome you back and… invite you to my apartment later,” she purred. She stepped close to him again and tried grabbing his crotch.

“Tomorrow, maybe,” Negan courtly said, stopping her hand before she could touch him.

Amber stepped back and looked me over. “I can’t understand how you prefer spending your nights with her over me! I mean… look at her! She dresses like a teenage boy!”

“Careful,” Negan warned her.

“I’m serious… really look at her! For just a minute!” Amber obviously didn’t know when to stop.

Negan stepped towards her again and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him instead of me. “If I hear one more word from you against her, you’ll be in deep, fucking shit. Understand me?”

He let go of her, expecting she’d smarten up.

Amber seemed averse to smartening up. ”This wasn’t what we agreed on when I became your wife!” she pouted.

“Well too fucking bad. Poor you, getting to sit in your apartment each and every damn day, not lifting a fucking finger, having people attend to your every damn whim while just behind that fucking fence out there people are eaten by Zombies. How DARE you complain?”

I was glad his words weren’t directed at me. The air practically sizzled with his anger.

“But… I want to have sex with you! Your little… friend can even join in, I don’t mind… I’ll teach her a thing or two!” She shot me a fake grin over Negan’s shoulder.

“Keep this up and you’ll be back where you were before I fucking picked you up, sucking dick for a couple of extra points downstairs, dirty, disgusting. Don’t think I have forgotten that, just because you seem to have.”

That seemed to do the trick. Amber’s eyes filled with tears and she shrank down into herself. Her shoulders slumped and even her hair seemed to lose some of its body.

Negan didn’t deign her with one more word. He turned around and put his arm around me, ushering me towards his apartment.

On a whim, I put my arm around him as well and let it slide into his back pocket, hoping she’d notice.

I hated being petty like that, but her words had stung.

My boobs were small, my hips slim, my hair was kinda… just there. Brown, straight and in need of a cut. Compared to her lush hourglass figure and perfectly styled long, wavy, black hair… I shook my head as if to clear the thoughts away. It didn’t matter.

“You got your key?” Negan muttered. “Left mine downstairs.”

I could feel the keys in his pocket press against my hip. He was doing this on purpose, giving me one more opening to demonstrate my position and drive the point home towards Amber.

Unlocking the door, I pushed it open and stepped into his apartment.

“You alright?” he asked the second the door was securely shut and locked behind us.

I nodded.

“Good.” He pulled me close and kissed me, deep and greedy.

I allowed myself to melt against him and kissed him back just as deeply. I had missed being alone with him, being held by him, smelling him, touching him.

Judging by how he pushed his hands under my T-Shirt, he seemed to have missed me as well.

“What are you doing?” I grinned, pulling away just out of his reach.

“Just making sure you know how much I fucking want you.” He moved to kiss my neck and lifted me up as if I weighed nothing.

“You wouldn’t believe how much I wanted to do this all day long… all fucking week long,” he muttered, gently sitting me down on the bed. He moved down to my belly and kissed me, pushing my shirt up to my chest. Unbuckling my belt with greedy fingers, he pulled down my pants and panties in one swoop movement, letting them sit at my ankles when he couldn’t get them over my boots.

Kissing his way up my thighs as he spread them, he looked up at me, meeting my eyes, making sure I was okay with this.

I was more than okay.

His fingers were gentle on my skin, trailing goosebumps after them as he let them slide over my legs.

“You… trimmed,” he muttered.

I nodded, self-consciously pulling my legs together again as far as his hands allowed. “You like it?”

He let his fingers glide over my newly shortened hair and licked his lips in anticipation. “Hell yea,” he said.

I let go of the breath I’d been holding and relaxed, letting him pull my legs apart again.

He dove down so quickly, pushing his tongue in between my lips, I cried out.

The first time he’d done this, he had been gentle and slow. This time, there was nothing slow about it. He worked me with his lips and tongue and teeth and fingers, making me shiver and quiver against him within minutes.

“Are you going to fucking cum for me?” he muttered, looking up. His chin was wet with my juices, his eyes sparkled with mischief.

His fingers never stopped working me and made it almost impossible to gather my wits enough to answer him. “Yes! Don’t… mmmmhhhh…. don’t stop,” I stammered.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said against my skin, already on his way down again.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and pushed him against me that much harder. “Fuck yes…” I whimpered. My legs and toes wanted to cramp against him, but I couldn’t move.

Shit.

I couldn’t move!

“Stop…” I called out. “Stop!!”

He came up and carefully pulled his fingers out of me.

That was the last thing I needed and I came around him, my body convulsing and buckling as tears started flowing down my face.

I pressed my legs together and rolled to the side, pulling the blanket over me and hiding my face. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

Shaking all over, I reached down to pull up my pants.

Negan, even though he seemed confused, helped me as well as he could. “What happened?” he asked, his voice holding a tone of insecurity I had never heard. A gentle hand landed on my shoulder.

It reminded me where I was, who I was with. This was Negan, not Uncle Felix. I was good. I was safe.

Despite realizing this and knowing I was safe and secure with Negan, I needed a good five minutes before I calmed down enough so I could speak. I loved Negan for his patience. He didn’t push me, just waited.

“I… I don’t know what happened,” I whispered, even though I knew perfectly well what had happened. I just didn’t want to explain it to him. “I’m sorry.”

The thought of Amber waiting for him in the next room while I was here, a sobbing heap of uselessness made me cry even harder. If it wasn’t for me, he’d have hot, glorious sex now. “You… you can go to Amber if,” I sniffled, “if you want to,” I muttered, even though the thought broke my heart.

The bed dipped behind me and I felt him pull me against him, spoon style. “I don’t want to though,” he whispered. His words tickled the skin behind my ear and shivers ran down my back as he held me, warmed me, reminded me where I was and who I was with.

I was safe.

Things were good.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered again.

“Forget about it. It’s alright.”

“No, it isn’t. You got five beautiful women there who’d jump at a chance to have sex with you and… then you got me… ugh.”

“And look who I am with,” he said and kissed my neck.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the one I love.”

I sniffled. He had said it again. His feelings hadn’t changed over the last week. I pulled his arms around me tighter and kissed his fingers. I wanted to tell him I loved him too. But the words just wouldn’t come out.

“Still?” I whispered instead.

His body shook with silent laughter. “Still.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took me a while... I found it a little hard to stay focused these past few days, but it's finished now! And the next chapter as well, I only need to edit that one! Stay tuned!


	7. Learning to lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is ever as they seem. Especially not Negan.   
> Clara learns a truth about him she doesn't much enjoy. Will it change her feelings about him?   
> Also, some unwelcome guests show up...

“I want you to keep an eye on that Eugene guy this afternoon. Show him around, remind him who’s boss is if he acts out, the usual,” Negan said when we made our way downstairs the next morning. “And take him to my office when you’re done.”

I nodded. “Sure, will do.” I had planned on seeking out Eugene anyways. It wasn’t every day one got to meet an old friend again. Especially not in these times.

It must be close to ten years we hadn’t talked. We had been trying to keep in touch after I had left my grandmother’s house, but back then I’d had bigger problems than informing him of my whereabouts; making enough money so I could eat for example.

+++

Eugene, thankfully wasn’t mad at all. He had never been one to hold grudges. He probably hadn’t even realized my not texting him back or picking up the phone had been impolite.

I had never been inside the bullet manufactory before. Standing in the entryway now I realized why that was: it was loud, it smelled bad and people stared at me. The moment I spotted Eugene, I waved him over and led him outside.

“Negan asked me to show you around and give you the tour of his kingdom,” I said, doing my best to ignore the guard that kept following us. Eugene was still under supervision and would remain so for another week; if everything went well, that was. “I mean… not that it’ll be important for your work or anything, but if you’re going to stay with us, you’ll probably like to know about… things, right?” I shrugged.

He nodded. “That would be much appreciated.”

“So, we’ll start with the outside areas and then get inside later on. If you have any questions, just ask… maybe I can answer them.”

Eugene didn’t waste a second before his first question. “How long have you been living here?”

“Umm…” not the kind of question I’d had in mind, but whatever! “It’s about,” I calculated in my head, ”a little more than two years now.”

“And you made your way up the ranks.”

“That only happened very recently,” I self-consciously admitted.

“Either way, you are permitted to carry firearms. That would have to say something.”

I looked down on myself. I had thought my loose t-shirt hid the gun well enough. Seemed like it didn’t.

“You pick up on a thing or two when you’re out there,” Eugene said, noticing my look.

“Like spotting a weapon,” I muttered.

“For example, yes.”

“What else?” I hadn’t been outside the fence once since a group of Negan’s men had picked me up all that time ago, sick, hurt and half starved. I shuddered at the thought.

Eugene started talking and didn’t stop for a couple of minutes. I had known he wouldn’t sugarcoat things, I just hadn’t expected his life to be quite so full of blood and gore. It made me glad to live a sheltered life within the fence.

We quickly fell into our old habit of him talking in great detail and me listening and it was like it had always been between the two of us: somewhat awkward, but overall well-disposed towards each other and therefore enjoyable.

It was getting dark by the time we finished our tour in front of Negan’s office.

Eugene stopped my hand as I reached out to knock.

I looked at him expectantly.

“I hate to do this like that,” he said, suddenly seeming very uncomfortable.

Frowning, I waited for him to continue.

“But when we were both adolescents and you left your grandmother’s house, I swore to myself that if I ever happened to stumble upon you again, I would ask you out on a formal date. So this is me, asking you to join me for dinner, tonight or any other day that’s convenient,” he said, not looking at me, but at the ground instead.

“Umm…” I had expected a lot, but not this.

“No,” Negan suddenly said from behind me.

With a start I turned towards him.

“She’s mine. She’ll have to fucking pass.”

I turned back to Eugene. He looked between Negan and me, obviously deciding whether or not Negan was pulling his leg and waiting for me to clear things up.

“It’s…” I didn’t know what to say, so I stepped against Negan and pulled his arm around my shoulders, going for showing instead of telling. “I’m sorry, if I had known…” I trailed off. If I had known, nothing would be different. I hadn’t even thought about Eugene until yesterday evening.

“I… have to apologize. I wasn’t aware.” He shot me a glance that said more than a thousand words. Heartbreak and disappointment mixed with disbelief and… pity?

“Now you are, fuckwad… so don’t you dare even think of her when you’re wanking yourself off tonight,” Negan said, pulling me closer.

Part of me felt bad for Eugene. I had never been aware of his feelings. But if it was between Negan and Eugene, it would always be Negan. Come to think of it, if it was between Negan and anyone, it would always be Negan.

Nobody had said anything for a while. And this wasn’t a good silence. It was an extremely uncomfortable silence. But Negan wanted to talk to Eugene, not to me, so this silence was theirs alone. “I… I’ll leave you to it,” I said, shrugging out from under Negan’s arm.

Getting up on tiptoe and wanted to give him a chaste kiss goodbye.

Negan had never been one for being subtle and chaste probably wasn’t even in his vocabulary, so I didn’t know what else I had expected. He still managed to catch me by surprise when he put his arm around my waist and deepened the kiss, dipping me over backwards.

This display of affection was ridiculous but I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. His strong arms around my body, his greedy lips against mine, his tongue claiming my mouth… and the knowledge he did this out of jealousy.

I needed a second to find my balance when he stood me onto my own two feet again and I couldn’t entirely hide the grin on my face as Negan sent me off with a slap to my butt. I wandered off, with an extra swing in my step, feeling flustered.

+++

Keeping track of the day and date had been bred into humans for generations. Knowing what day it was gave a vague sense of civilization.

Tobias claimed to have started the tradition of noting the time and day on a blackboard in the mess hall when he’d come to the Sanctuary a couple years before and he was about 95% sure his timekeeping was accurate.

Nobody else knew any better, so everyone went with it.

I got me a big mug of tea and glanced at the blackboard as I wandered outside to enjoy what was possibly one of the last sunny days for the year. Today was Saturday, 15th of October.

The air was cool and wafts of mist hung in the air. I was glad I had grabbed a jacket from the clothes depot already.

Since Eugene had so blatantly informed me yesterday how my gun was still very noticeable despite my wearing loose clothes, I had just gone back to wearing whatever I felt like underneath my jacket. Today that meant of a black t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans with ripped knees. I didn’t know if those were a design element or if they had simply been worn to pieces by whoever had owned them before me.

I found a sunny spot outside and sat down, pulling my knees up and cradling my mug to my chest to warm myself. I liked those quiet moments. Barely anyone was up yet. Birds twittered, Walkers in their enclosure groaned. From the stables, a cow mooed.

A friendly chirp made me look to my left. One of the kitchen cats, a fat ginger named Tater Tot, came walking towards me, tail in the air, eyes half closed against the bright morning light. He sat down next to me and started cleaning himself. I let my hand glide through his soft fur and was rewarded with a couple licks before he went back to working on his front paws. Seemed he still considered me a friend, even though I hadn’t come to feed him in a while.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sunshine on my face.

“I knew I would find you out at this hour. Some things never change,” a familiar voice said and shade fell on my face as Eugene stepped in front of the sun.

Back when we had been younger, we had often met in the wee hours of morning before going to school because neither of us had slept very well.

“Good Morning,” I said, not opening my eyes. “You’re blocking the sun.”

The sunshine came back and I heard Eugene sit down to my left, so Tater Tot was between us. Neither of us said anything while the world around us slowly woke up.

I reached to pet the cat again and froze when I met another set of fingers.

“Sorry about yesterday,” I muttered, pulling back. “About… Negan I mean. I should have told you.”

“Possibly,” Eugene agreed. “How did that happen?”

With everyone else, that question would have sounded disdainful. With Eugene, I knew this was simply his way of talking. “I don’t even know. It just did,” I truthfully said. If anyone would have told me a couple months ago, I would have sent them away and told them not to tell bullshit.

“I would never have guessed you would feel drawn to a man like him. Considering…” he trailed off.

“Considering?” I looked at him.

“Do you know what he does when he is out there, with his men?”

I frowned. “Scavenging?” I guessed, but had to admit I actually had no idea what exactly it was that he did.

“If you want to call it that,” Eugene said.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really not know?”

“Umm… obviously I don’t.” His secretiveness made me uneasy.

“He finds small communities and he takes their supplies.” Eugene said. “Half of their supplies. Half of everything.”

“…what?” Stealing? That didn’t sound like Negan at all. He might be cruel at times, but stealing from weaker ones? No! He wouldn’t!

“You showed me the gardens yesterday. You must be aware gardens of that size can’t support a community of this extent.”

“I…” I had never thought about this. Foods might be scarce at times, but so far, there had always been enough. Had we been eating stolen stuff all this time?

Eugene silently watched me work things out in my head. Not scavenging but stealing?

“Negan and his men are feared as much as despised by everyone out there.”

I swallowed.

Eugene took my silence as an invitation to continue explaining. “It’s not as if he right up steals stuff. He says he will protect small communities in exchange for half of everything. Most accept. By the time they realize he is the one they need protection from the most it’s too late.”

“But… that’s extortion!”

Eugene nodded.

No, this couldn’t be real. He was making that up! “Why did you choose to help us, if he’s such a bad guy?”

“It was either change affiliations or stay in the dungeon. Between those two, the decision was an easy one.”

I had to admit that made sense. Eugene was a good guy but selflessness or loyalty weren’t in his vocabulary. And after seeing, and smelling his cell I wasn’t sure if I’d have acted any different.

Either way, who was I to judge? I was sleeping with the guy that took food away from children while punishing his own people for hurting weaker ones.

Fuck, I wish Eugene wouldn’t have told me.

What was I to do now? Should I do anything?

I drank the last of my tea and gave Tater Tot another scratch between the ears before getting to my feet. “I have to get to work,” I muttered.

+++

A couple hours later I decided I had dealt with enough for today. I was exhausted.

I went back to my room and, pulling off my shoes and pants, crawled into bed.

Part of my exhaustion sprang from coming to terms with what Eugene had told me. The other part came from my body being flooded with hormones.

Ever since Negan and I had started… getting intimate, I had secretly been worried about getting pregnant. I had asked about condoms at the pharmacy but they had told me they had run out of condoms, and every other method of contraception, a while ago. This left us with the pull-out-method.

Seemed it had worked… this month.

In times before the world had gone to shit I would have gotten a tub of chocolate ice cream and a handful of cookies and watched bad movies that made me cry.

There were no more such luxuries now.

Closing my eyes and hugging myself I made up my own stories in my head to distract myself from the cramps and waited for sleep to come.

Just as I was about to doze off, someone knocked on my door.

“What?” I groaned.

The door opened and Negan stepped inside, starting to talk before he even saw me. “I’ve been looking for you all over the place!” Taking a step closer and realizing I was in bed, he lowered his voice. “You’re not sick, are you?”

I shook my head. “Just tired…”

He sat down and reached for my hand.

I pulled away. How could I let him touch me after what Eugene had told me?

Negan frowned. “You want me to leave?”

Did I want him to leave? Thinking it over for a minute, I shook my head. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What is it that you do when you’re gone… out there, I mean.”

“Scavenging. You know that,” he said.

“Yes, but what does scavenging entail exactly?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Anything happen that I should know about?”

I sat up, letting the blanket pool around my waist. “Just… How did Eugene happen to end up in the dungeons?”

Negan sat up straighter. “Why do you ask? I bet the fucker told you already.”

I shook my head. He hadn’t. I hadn’t thought to ask him. “Can you please just answer my questions?”

“If that will make you happy?!” It was half statement, half question.

I hadn’t wanted to make him angry.

He didn’t seem to want to be angry with me either. His voice had a forced calm about it when he continued and he was speaking slow, as if talking to a child. “Scavenging means going to the communities under our protection and taking what they owe us for services rendered. Communities that can’t pay get to exchange our services for a pawn of their choice. Your dear friend Eugene happens to be just such a pawn.”

I took a deep breath.

“That not what you wanted to hear?” He still acted calm, but the anger started showing through the cracks.

“Yes… no…” I took another breath. “I don’t... Why?”

“Why?” he repeated.

“Why do you do this?!”

“To keep people fed and clothed.” The cracks were growing, but I couldn’t stop now. If I didn’t ask him now, I never would.

“And there is no other way to do this?” I said.

Negan got to his feet and looked down at me. “Alright,” he crossed his arms and didn’t bother speaking calmly any longer, “this is probably my fault for being all lovey-dovey with you these past few weeks. But I want you to take a minute to remind yourself who you’re fucking talking to and whether or not it’s a smart thing to question the way I run this place.”

Shit. I had pushed too far. I took a deep breath, looking at his face, then at his shoes, then at the floor.

“You understand me?”

“Yes…” I whispered, pulling up my knees and fighting back tears. Fucking hormones.

“Yes what?” he kept on pushing.

“Yes, Sir, Negan, Sir.” I wiped my eyes and sniffled. I didn’t want to cry now. Not because of a couple of sharp words.

“Good. Now are we fucking done with this?”

I nodded and he sat down on the bed again.

“Stop crying,” he said and reached towards me, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear before wiping away my tears with a gentle thumb.

“I would if I could,” I sniffled, brushing his hand down.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was as soft as his caresses.

“Nothing…” I muttered, turning away.

“Oh I know that fucking tone of voice,” he said and there was amusement hidden somewhere behind his words. “That’s the tone of voice where ‘nothing’ means fucking ‘everything’! I got a couple wives, remember?”

I rolled my eyes. What did he expect me to say to that? “Yes, thank you for reminding me.”

“Anything I can help you with?” His voice was earnest again.

I shook my head. I knew I shouldn’t act like this. Me acting like that would surely change his mind about loving me. And him changing his mind about that would… destroy me. I wanted him to love me. I needed him to love me! Fuck!

“Stay right the fuck here,” he said and got up.

He closed the door behind him and left me alone with my anxiety.

What had I done? He would surely send someone to kick me out of my room and get back to my old life. I calculated how many more doses of my meds I would be able to afford before I’d run out again. I hadn’t even realized how I had started shaking all over. It was only partly from being physically cold. Why was it so cold in here?

I rolled to the side and hid under the blanket.

The door opened again.

I didn’t move.

The bed dipped with someone sitting down.

A hot-water-bottle was pushed towards me, under the blanket.

The friendly gesture made me bold enough to risk a glance at Negan. Maybe he wouldn’t kick me out after all.

“Are those… chocolate chip?” I muttered when I realized he had placed a box of girl scout cookies on my nightstand.

“You’ll have to come out to find out,” Negan answered and I heard the smile in his voice.

“But… I thought there were no more cookies!” I reached for the box and ripped it open. My eyes met Negan’s and then went back to the treat.

He raised an eyebrow as if to say “I’m the king. I order cookies, I get cookies.”

“I can’t remember the last time I had cookies!” My mouth was watering with anticipation. I greedily reached into the box and stuffed a whole cookie in my mouth, chewing happily.

“You have enough stuff to deal with your… situation?” Negan said, motioning to my crotch area.

I choked and almost spit the cookie out again. “Yes… thank… thank you.” This wasn’t something I had wanted to discuss with my lover. Ever.

“Look at you, all shy and blushing,” Negan snorted.

I pulled the blanket over my head and turned away from him.

His hand landed on my hip. “Any guy who wants to fuck a woman should be comfortable with getting her the things she needs, Clara.”

I didn’t move. He might be right but that didn’t mean I had to enjoy this talk.

“Negan, we have a problem,” Simon suddenly blasted inside, not bothering with knocking.

Negan let go of me and got up. “What the fuck is it?” He was obviously annoyed for having been interrupted.

Simon lowered his voice but not enough for me to make out what he was saying. “There’s people outside. Spotted six so far, from every direction.”

“Shit,” Negan muttered. “Anyone we know?”

Simon shook his head. “One of my men says he saw that black bitch with her sword.”

Negan took a deep inhale. I looked between the two of them, confused. What was happening?

“Keep a close watch. Tell the men to stay alert. Everyone on shift stays on shift,” Negan ordered.

Simon nodded.

“Don’t let anyone downstairs hear about it! We don’t want ‘em panicking. That goes for you too,” he added, turning to me.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what I had just heard.

Simon left and Negan sat down again, heavily. Leaning back, he placed his hands over his face for a moment and took a few deep breaths. “Fucking shit,” he murmured.

I put the cookies to the side and took his hand instead. “What’s happening?”

“Are you ready to kill?” he asked, looking at me intently.

“What?” I let go of his hand.

“If someone attacks us tonight. Are you ready to kill? Not wound, not shoot anyone’s balls off, but fucking kill them.”

I looked to my nightstand where I had placed my gun when I’d undressed. Was I ready to kill? “I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Alright,” he slowly said, nodding to himself. “If you’re not ready to kill, you’ll pose as a civilian. Pack your stuff, go downstairs to your old room, anyone asks, you’re working in the kitchen. They won’t hurt you.”

“Who won’t hurt me? Negan! What the fuck is happening?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry. Get dressed, go downstairs. If you hear shooting, stay in your room.”

“But…”

“Clara, I need you to listen to me very closely. If we’re attacked tonight, they’ll shoot anyone who carries a gun, no questions asked. If you’re not ready to kill, you’ll be killed.”

“I don’t understand!” What was he talking about? How would anyone get inside?

“Doesn’t matter. Give me the gun and get going. I’ll be resting easier knowing you’re safe.”

+++

He might be resting easier. I sure wasn’t.

Lissa was surprised by my being in her room when she returned from work that evening. I had had all afternoon to come up with a story and she seemed to believe me when I told her I was overwhelmed with my new job and had asked Negan to go back to my old life.

The fact she believed it so easily made me think over my life choices. Had she expected me to fail from the start? I didn’t ask her. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

We fell back into our old pattern easily and went to sleep.

Well. Lissa did.

I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me.

Every sound made me jump. Were those gunshots? Was anyone inside?

Nothing seemed to happen for a long time.

Then a lot happened all at once.

Gunshots. Real ones this time, not imagined. And a lot of them, almost drowning out the screams. Fuck. Lissa jumped awake and looked around in confusion.

“Get dressed,” I whispered and got out of bed to do the same. Whoever it was out there, whatever they were going to do to us, I wouldn’t face them in flannel pajama pants and a ratty tank top.

“What’s happening?” Lissa said, not moving.

“I don’t know,” I truthfully admitted.

And then there was no more time for talking. The door to our room was slammed open and a masked gunman, or, woman, upon closer inspection, told us to pack our things and get the fuck outside.

The corridor outside of our room was chaos. Men, women, kids, everyone was running, some shouting, a lot crying.

I took hold of Lissa’s hand so we wouldn’t lose each other in the mayhem and we went outside, ducking each time we heard another shot.

The big floodlights over the yard were turned on and so bright I had to squeeze my eyes shut for a moment until I was used to it.

The shooting had moved on to the upper levels. Was Negan upstairs? Fighting someone? I pulled Lissa towards the edge of the gathered group of civilians. Her eyes were wide open and silent tears streamed down her face. She looked as confused as I felt and on a whim, I pulled her into a hug. I had no idea what was going to happen to us, but at least I’d had a chance to get used to the idea of this… raid or whatever we should call it.

All around us, masked, armed men and women stood. They didn’t seem friendly exactly, but the few times someone dared approach them, they didn’t immediately shoot them. I took that as a good sign.

Families huddled against each other, sitting down on the ground. Lissa and I were two of the few ones to have gotten dressed. I gave my jacket to a shivering mother and little girl who wore nothing but their sleep clothes. Lissa opened her jacket and we huddled against each other for warmth. I was one of the very few with a fully backed backpack. It held nothing but a change of clothes, some underwear, my meds and some hygiene products.

+++

It seemed like we were sitting there for hours, waiting, jumping with every new gunshot. And with every minute that passed I got angrier and angrier. What gave these people the right to do this to us? To raid us like that and scare and injure so many?

Billows of smoke rose up from behind the building. It smelled like BBQ. I knew what that meant.

I wished Negan hadn’t taken my gun. In this moment, I knew I could shoot to kill. I would probably end up killed myself, but I would at least take a few of them with me. Fucking assholes.

It got more and more silent the longer we sat and waited. The sun was slowly starting to rise in the east and showed many sleeping faces.

Our overseers looked as tired as we were, close to falling asleep themselves. Should I try to run now? To grab a gun? Looking around I decided against it. There were six guards. Trained probably. And I had never shot anything but my small revolver. Their rifles looked scary. I’d probably end up hurting myself if I tried shooting one.

A whisper going through the crowd made me look to where all the heads were turned: The staircase that lead to the second level.

Negan had just stepped out on it, his hands bound behind him, face bloody, but his head held high. Two guys were holding on to him, leading him down the stairs.

Before I realized it I had gotten to my feet and run towards him.

“Stop it right there,” a female voice said and a shiny blade appeared before me, at throat height.

“But…” I whimpered, looking from Negan to her and back again.

Negan had spotted me as well and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face. He had made it to ground level and was close enough so I could see him more clearly. One of his eyes was swollen shut. His nose looked crooked and he limped. None of his injuries did anything to hide his strength though. He might be hurt, but he wasn’t broken. One second of inattention was all he would need.

I took another step towards him before I remembered the blade.

“Please,” I whispered, but didn’t even know what I was pleading for. I couldn’t help Negan.

“What do you want with that asshole?” the woman asked.

“I… I…” Negan and his handlers were still moving towards us. Our gazes met. “I love him,” I whispered.

He had heard me. I saw it in the way his face lit up, in how his shoulders got a little straighter. He didn’t say anything, but I didn’t need him to. He loved me too.

His handlers didn’t allow him to slow down and much too soon they had passed us and taken him out of my line of sight.

Where were they going? Would I ever see him again?

Suddenly I was very cold. I hugged myself and the blade sunk down before the woman put it back into the sheath on her back. “Go back to the others and don’t step out of line again,” she said. Her tone of voice made it very clear what she thought of my love confession. I didn’t care.

Head hung low, shoulders slumping, I moved back to the others and sat down. Negan was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took me so long to post, but I had kinda lost my train of thought, if you so will.   
> Now I know where this story is going and there'll be 2 or 3 more good chapters coming. Drama, Gore, Romance... everything a good story needs! 
> 
> Let me know if you liked this!


	8. Learning how strong you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the raid in the last chapter, Clara decides she doesn't want to be moved to some other community. She doesn't want to live anywhere where Negan isn't.   
> Is running off by herself really the best solution to that though?

Lissa and a few other people tried asking what I had said to Negan or to the woman with the blade.

I didn’t bother replying. Negan was gone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone but him.

How would I ever find him again?

Around midmorning a few of our handlers passed out food and water bottles, both taken from our stores, to everyone. They told us to take some with us since we would be out walking all day, possibly longer.

We would be taken to different settlements, split up depending on our skills. I told them I was a cook, as Negan had ordered me to do, which brought me to a group of about twenty, in the very back of the yard.

I quickly assessed I knew not one person in my new group on a more intimate level than seeing them in the mess hall, when I spotted Eugene from afar.

He moved freely. No one had a gun trained on him. Had he really switched sides again? Or had he never really been on our side? Had he… done this?

“Eugene!” I called, waving my arms over my head.

He took a turn and moved towards me. “Are you alright?” he asked.

I nodded. No one had harmed me… not physically.

One of the armed people called for Eugene and he was about to walk off again.

I gripped his arm and stopped him. He looked down at my hand, then at my face. Something like hope flashed over his face.

“Did… you do this?” I asked, voice low.

He said nothing, face impassive.

I took that as a yes.

“What’s going to happen to Negan?” I whispered.

“They’ll take him to Alexandria,” he courtly said.

I held on to his arm for a second longer and he looked down at me. “You really love him,” he said and pulled his arm out of my grip, looking at me for a second longer before turning away with a shake of his head and walking off.

+++

Our hands weren’t bound but armed guards, some of them on horses, most on foot, made sure we stayed in line. My group was one of the last ones to be led out through the gate. Leaving was more painful than I had expected.

I had felt safe behind that fence. It had become my home, the only home I had ever known. And lately, with Negan… I sniffled. And I wasn’t the only one. Sniffling and sobbing filled the air around me. The Sanctuary hadn’t been a luxury retreat. Living there hadn’t been comfortable. Work had been hard, people had been cruel at times, but we had been safe, we had been fed, we had been warm.

My heart ached. I didn’t want to go live somewhere else. Especially not without Negan.

No one told us where we were headed. It made things a bit… harder. If we were headed towards Alexandria, it wouldn’t make sense for me to try to run. If we were headed somewhere else, I needed to get away, but not before finding out which way Alexandria was.

I sped up until I reached the head of the group. The two guys leading us were talking amongst themselves. I wished I were pretty. I could have seduced them and made them tell me everything. There wasn’t a single one of Negan’s wives in our group. They could have helped me.

I snorted at the thought. Yea, as if…

One of the guards turned towards me and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, allergies,” I muttered, sniffling demonstratively.

He shook his head and turned back to his partner. I heard the name Waterfront a couple of times. Was this where we were heading?

I had to get away from them. I didn’t know which direction I would go from here, but I would worry about that when I had made my escape. One step after another.

Our group consisted of about twenty people, equally made up of kids, adults and olds, male and female. The kids and older people amongst us forced us to take frequent breaks. We took so many, even when the sun started sinking westwards, I felt as if I could turn around and still see the Sanctuary if it weren’t for the trees.

The thought made me wonder. If Negan had been extorting those communities, was there any chance he’d have maps in his office? He had often been working on all kinds of paperwork, which hadn’t made sense to me back then. With what I knew now, things were different. I tried to remember if I had ever seen him with a map.

I was reasonably sure I could find my way back to the Sanctuary from here. If I made it there and managed to get inside without being shot by one of the people they had doubtlessly left there I could check for a map… or a weapon and plan the rest of my quest from there.

When we next took a break, I told one of the guards I’d go for a pee. They had allowed us to move into the underbrush to do so and some even turned their backs while we did, to give us some privacy.

I was in luck. Three other women had asked to go as well and our watchman turned his back.

Those guys were nice. Way too nice.

That made me want to be taken in by them even less. They were nice… weak… I didn’t want to be live in a community like that. This wasn’t a nice world. Weakness would kill you.

The underbrush was thick and twilight was falling slowly. I hoped bad lighting and my black clothes were enough for me to stay hidden from the rest of the group.

The other women went to the side one by one. I didn’t. I moved deeper into the shrubs, hoping no one would notice or miss me. I kept on moving, heedless of the twigs and thorns scratching over my skin or pulling my hair. The shrubs grew thicker and thicker the farther I moved until I got to the point where I had to get down on all fours and shrug off my backpack to pull it after me by one arm.

I kept going.

Turning back over my shoulder, I realized I could still hear the group but no longer see them. I made myself as small as possible and pressed to the ground, hoping to blend in with the dirt. I had been invisible all my life. Now, for the first time, my life depended on it.

My heart beat so loud in my ears, I was sure everyone around must hear it.

“Everyone back?” I heard someone shout.

If they decided to do a count now, I was in deep shit.

A spider crawled over my arm, towards my face. Goosebumps ran up and down my back but I didn’t dare move to shake it off. Please don’t crawl into my nose…

Felix junior had loved to catch all kinds of critters and toss them at me or make me eat them, preferably while one of his mates had held me. That had been before he had found out how to get his enjoyment out of me elsewise.

Shit. I had to stop thinking about this or I’d have a panic attack right here and now. I couldn’t afford to panic!

I blew the spider off my arm and hoped it would get the hint. Don’t come back…

“…15, 16, 17,… we’re one short!” someone called.

Focusing on the spider and on not panicking had distracted me so much, I hadn’t noticed someone doing a count.

I closed my eyes. If I hadn’t been so scared, I would have taken a deep, exasperated breath. As it was, I didn’t dare move. Not even open my eyes. My heartbeat was loud enough. I was sure they’d hear it.

Footsteps sounded all around me, moving over the leafy forest ground. It felt as if there were at least fifty pairs of feet walking around, searching.

And something was crawling on the back of my neck. I squirmed, hoping to get the critter to drop to the ground.

To my right, twigs and leafs rustled.

I froze.

I squeezed my eyes shut as if that would make me invisible. I had never before been so glad about wearing black. The falling darkness and the bushes around me would hide me. They had to.

Had the guards had flash lamps? I couldn’t remember. If they had…

Twigs rustled again, in another spot. Footsteps seemed to circle me. In a second, a gun would be pushed into my back and someone would tell me to get the fuck up. I knew it.

Something crawled on my arms again. Fucking insects!

“No one here,” someone called and the footsteps retreated.

I was so relieved, I almost peed myself.

“You sure you counted right?”

“Who the fuck cares? If anyone ran… GOOD LUCK SURVIVING THE NIGHT WITHOUT A WEAPON!”

The sound of the group starting to move again was the best sound I had ever heard in my life. I had done it! I had escaped!

+++

I waited for as long as I could suffer the crawling sensations all over my body and then made my way back out from the shrubs. The second I was sure the group really was gone, I pulled my shirt over my head and slapped my own back with it. Whatever was on my back, I wanted, no I NEEDED it gone.

Only when I was sure all the insects were either shaken off or dead, did I put my shirt back on and start to look around. A half rotten Walker lay to my right. Someone had thankfully bashed its head in. If it wasn’t for whoever had done that, my adventure would already be over. I had to be more careful!

What had I been thinking?

I was all alone.

In a quickly darkening forest full of Walkers and without a weapon. Shit.

I scanned the ground for anything I could use to defend myself; a rock, a stick, a nice and shiny revolver… I found only leafs and small twigs. And on top of that, in my search and my anti insect-dance I had completely lost orientation.

A bout of laughter found its way through my mouth. This must be the stupidest thing I had ever done.

I started walking in a random direction, just because it was as good as any. Three steps later, I tripped over a stick and fell. Really?

Sitting on the floor, I took a minute to inspect the stick. It was a little longer than my lower arm and about as thick. It had a nice weight to it and seemed sturdy enough. And really, beggars couldn’t be choosers, so I kept it.

It made me feel less defenseless. And it kinda reminded me of Lucille. Lucille… Negan hadn’t had her when they’d taken him away. If I found the way back to the Sanctuary, I had to get her too.

Looking around, I had to admit I had no idea where I was or which direction I should continue in.

It was almost completely dark. I should find shelter and continue tomorrow. Twenty plus pair of feet must have left some kind of tracks I could trace. They had to lead me back. But not today. Today I needed to find shelter.

All around me, young trees and the group of shrubs I had hidden under were all I could make out. I wouldn’t go back in there without at least a couple cans of bug spray, so that direction was all out.

I figured I wanted to find an old tree with a thick trunk so I would be shielded from the cold from one side at least. A nice fluffy pillow, a warm blanket and some hot cocoa would be nice too.

Hugging myself, I thought of my jacket. I shouldn’t have given it away. A T-shirt definitely wasn’t the right kind of clothing for sleeping outside in a fucking forest in the middle of October. I hadn’t packed a lot of clothes, simply because I didn’t own any, but I had a long sleeved shirt. I took a minute to rummage through my backpack and pull it over my head.

While I was at it, I took a sip of water and ate half a cookie, always scanning my surroundings.

Somewhere behind me, I heard the telltale moan of at least one Walker. This wasn’t the place for a shelter. I had to keep moving.

Moving. That was easier than killing Walkers.

Technically, I knew I could if I wanted to. But I really, really didn’t want to.

No more than ten minutes could have passed when I heard something rustle to my left. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness pretty well and I could make out something moving before me.

One, two… I froze and hoped they hadn’t heard me. Should I kill them? Or wait and hope they’d pass me?

They came towards me. And from behind me something moaned as well.

Adrenaline surged through my veins.

Hadn’t today been hard enough already? Couldn’t they have waited until tomorrow, when I’d had some time to recharge? I didn’t want to do this. Not today.

I knew I had to though. I had to kill them or they’d kill me.

Before I had even consciously made the decision, I turned around and started moving towards the one I had hoped to outwalk. I’d deal with that one first, then I’d go for the others.

Was I really making up a plan how to deal with Walkers? Shit.

My arms wanted to shake and it took all of me to keep a steady hold on my weapon. Should I hit from the top or from the side? Or try to stab?

No. Both ends were dull. Stabbing was out of question.

I saw something move and slowed down. I didn’t want it to hear me. Killing wasn’t my forte and I needed the surprise moment. Could Walkers even be surprised? I had no idea.

Didn’t matter. I had almost reached him and he had spotted me.

I tightened my grip on my club and forbade my hands and arms to shake. I had time to freak out later. Now, I had to survive.

Fuck I was scared.

My vision blurred and nausea washed over me.

I gritted my teeth. Focus Clara! Focus!

The Walker was taller than me, like most people were, so I’d have to come from the side.

I lifted the club, took a couple quick steps, and put all of my weight into my hit and closed my eyes… and missed.

The Walker staggered to the side, head still intact, but arm uselessly dangling by its side. I must have hit it in the shoulder.

Aim higher Clara! You can do this! And no closing your eyes!

I didn’t wait for the Walker to fully turn towards me again but ran around it so I had it from the back. Speed and agility were the only advantages I had over them. And I had to use them.

Lifting my club in the air up above me, eyes open wide, I hit as hard as I could.

The squelching sound told me I’d hit home.

Relief flooded me as I pulled my weapon out of the Walkers’ mashed brains. My knees started shaking and I moved backwards until my back hit a tree.

I glided down it as my knees gave out and sat for a moment, taking a couple of breaths.

Nausea washed over me and I bent to the side and puked out the little I had eaten earlier.

My arms shook so heavily, I almost dropped my club into my puke; not that that would have made much of a difference… it couldn’t get much more disgusting at this point.

I gave myself five more deep breaths to calm down. There were at least two more Walkers waiting for me. I could break down later. Later…

Gathering my wits, I got to my feet again. I could do this. I was strong.

My teeth chattered with fear and the pressure I was suddenly under. Living behind guarded fences had made me soft, but I had lived on my own before. Not well, not comfortable, but I had survived. I could do this again.

I was strong.

Strong.

Strong.

I kept chanting my newfound mantra over and over in my head as I moved towards the groans. This time, I couldn’t afford to miss. Both of my hits had to be on point the first time.

The two had obviously been drawn by my noise. Good thing they were slow, even slower than usual. One of them, the taller one, missed its foot and its heavy limp forced the other to slow down as well, since someone had handcuffed them together. What kind of sick joke was that?

The cuffs had worked their way through the rotting flesh on their wrists and bare bone was visible, even in the almost dark.

How should I kill them? Or was it enough to kill only one? The other one would have to drag the dead one after it if it wanted to get anywhere… or it would rip off its own hand and come after me.

I moved for the two legged one. It was female and wore something that loosely resembled a very dirty, very torn wedding gown. The bride wasn’t that much taller than me and I would be able to reach her head easily, even while she was upright.

Pulling up to my full height, I grabbed my weapon tight and lifted it over my head again. I put my full weight into the hit and it went through her head like a hot knife through butter. I pulled the club out and she fell forward, pulling her groom to all fours with her. This was my chance.

One hard kick with my heel and it was gone… and my shoe was wet with… things I didn’t want to think about. Pulling my foot out of its head almost made me lose my shoe… and pulled me off balance so I dropped down to my ass.

It didn’t matter. They were dead!

I had killed three Walkers! All by myself!

I wanted to woop with joy and pride but thought better of it.

Just because I had done it three times didn’t mean I wanted to do it a fourth time. I had to be more careful from now on. Make less noise, don’t let down my guard.

I got back up and took one last good look over my makeshift battlefield. Three Walkers! All by myself! Negan would be so proud!

Negan…

Fuck I missed him.

I had to find him! And soon!

My heart ached with the thought of him.

He had looked so rough when they had led him down those stairs. Bloody and beaten… The urge to hold and nurse him back to health rose up in my head. Me… nursing him… that was new. But I would do it... as long as I got to touch him, see him, talk to him.

The thought of him kept me going. Setting one foot in front of the other, carefully, tiredly, I continued my aimless walk through the forest. Something pulled me towards the left and I kept on moving… towards the left. I had no point of orientation, so I might as well listen to my intuition… or to fate as it would turn out.

+++

As the adrenaline subsided, exhaustion took over. I hadn’t slept in who knew how many hours and had barely eaten or drunk all day long.

Hugging myself I kept on walking. There was no way to tell how much time had passed when I decided that was it for today. I found a tree and walked around it once to make sure I wouldn’t wake up next to a dead animal or Walker or a pile of shit.

Fatigue made me easily satisfied and I sat down and leaned against the side with the fewest roots poking out of the ground. I shrugged off my backpack and wriggled my shoulders against the bark in an attempt to get comfortable, hugged myself against the cold, pulled up my legs and closed my eyes… and forced myself to open up my fists. My fingernails had painfully dug into the balls of my hands. I couldn’t afford hurting myself out here.

My teeth still chattered and I realized I shook all over.

Calm down, Clara. You got this, I told myself.

You’re doing so good. You’re strong! You should be so proud!

My hands rested against my elbows and held on as if I’d fall apart if I didn’t.

I had to calm down.

Think happy thoughts!

Think of Negan…

… of falling asleep next to him…

…of waking up with him…

… of kissing him…

… having sex with him.

My breath got slower and so did my heartbeat.

Being held by Negan.

I’d give my right arm to be held by him in this moment. He would know what to do. He would protect me, save me from falling apart.

I put my head on my knees and closed my eyes. I’d find him again. I knew I would.

+++

I wasn’t sure if a second or an hour had passed, but something or someone had just stepped on a twig somewhere behind me. Another Walker?

I lifted my head and listened into the darkness.

There, again!

Slowly getting to my feet, gripping my stick with both hands, I moved around my tree, eyes open wide. Should I call out? Or stay quiet and hope they’d just pass me?

I decided against calling and remained close to my tree instead. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something moving. It was tall. Moving on two feet.

So either a human or a Walker. I couldn’t make out any groaning, but that didn’t have to mean anything.

Alive or undead. It wouldn’t get me.

Gripping my stick tighter, I pressed my back against my tree and waited.

The footsteps moved closer. They had a sense of purpose to them that a Walker wouldn’t be able to muster. So it was a Who, not a What.

Maybe whoever this was would just move past and leave me alone. Boy, I wished they would do just that. I’d had enough confrontation for a month in the past few hours. Was I even strong enough to club a human to death?

I remembered Negan’s words: “Are you ready to kill?” and realized… out here, I had to be.

I pressed my back against the tree and sent a silent prayer to whoever listened. Give me strength.

They were only about two trees away now. If they kept on moving straight ahead, they might move past me without noticing. Please just move straight ahead. Please!!

I moved along my tree, staying out of their view… and stepped on a root.

My shoe was still gooey from the Walker’s brains earlier and I slid off and went to my knees with a cry. Fuck that had hurt!

Shit! I had dropped my club. Where was it?

The stranger, drawn by my cry, stepped around the tree.

I balled my fist and punched them in the knee as hard as I could.

They, he, I realized, went down with a groan. “Fucking shit!”

I blinked. “N… Negan?”

“As I live and breathe,” he answered, his voice, ironically, breathless.

“What are… how… are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry!” I moved towards where he crouched and put a hand on his arm. Negan was here! With me! I wanted to cry out with joy.

“I’ve had worse.” He took my hand. “Are you alright?”

I moved against him without consciously thinking about it. Negan was here! “Now I am,” I whispered. His scent, his warmth engulfed me. His arms around me made me weak with relief. My teeth chattered and not from cold. “How did you find me?” I whispered.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He sat and pulled down the zipper of his jacket so I could snuggle inside with him.

The world was okay. We would make it. Run away together. I didn’t care where to, as long as I was with him. I was whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised, this chapter is up much quicker..   
> next one might take a while... and I think will be the last... but it will be superfluffy, I promise!


	9. Learning to simply live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter. Hurt, Danger, Fear but everything will turn out just fine! Promise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if it really would be, but this is the last chapter, I guess.   
> Even though it pains me to write this.   
> My heart aches with knowing where our two heroes end up. With envy, not with sadness... you'll see.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up the next morning was how cold I felt. Cold and stiff and somewhat damp. I groaned when I stretched my shoulders and back. It felt like the moisture that hung in the air had permeated me through to the bone.

The second thing I noticed was how I was all alone. I stopped moving. Had I dreamed meeting Negan last night? No. His jacket lay draped over me. Where was he?

“Negan?” I croaked. And again, after clearing my throat. “Negan? Where are you?”

Nothing but the forest answered me. The leaves above my head rustled in the wind. I answered them with a shiver of my own. Fuck I was cold. And alone.

I managed to get my feet under me and slipped Negan’s jacket on. It was ridiculously big, but the soft, worn leather kept me safe from the wind. Negan’s scent that clung to it calmed me.

My club lay on the ground where I had dropped it last night. I tried my best to wipe the remnants of… things I had hit with it off against a tree, but it was all dried and gooey. Disgusting, but it was my only weapon, so I had to keep it.

“Morning,” Negan’s call startled me.

“Good Morning!” I turned towards him and, picking up my backpack from the ground, went to meet him.

The swelling on his face had gone back but the right half was one huge bruise, the eye still barely open. His nose had definitely been broken. It was crooked in a way it hadn’t been before.

His limp made me want to offer to carry him. He must be in a huge amount of pain.

I went up on tiptoe and brushed the gentlest of kisses against his lips.

Noticing the goosebumps on his arms, I shrugged out of the jacket and handed it to him. It was the least I could do. He looked way worse off than me. I could stand the cold… “Why are you wet?” I asked in an effort to distract myself from shivering.

“There’s a river a couple minutes in that direction,” he said, putting on his jacket and pulling me against him, so we could share in its warmth.

He led me to the river and I took a cat bath to freshen up. The water was icy, but I felt like I still smelled of puke and Walker. I’d rather take the cold than the stink.

I refilled my plastic bottle and we shared the little food we had. Neither of us said anything, letting the river and the twittering birds fill the silence.

Was Negan glad he’d stumbled over me? Or was I a ball and chain on his ankle that he’d have been happy to be rid of? Did he even care? Or was he already thinking of our next steps? He’d be better off without me that much I was sure about.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, like he had asked so many times before.

I took a moment to reply. What was I thinking about? “You, me, what to do next…” I muttered.

Negan nodded thoughtfully.

I took a small pebble I found on the ground and played with it, to occupy my fingers. “Do you…” I took a deep breath to find the courage to finish my question. “Do you want me to leave?”

He frowned. “Why would you ask something like that?”

I shrugged. “I mean… you’re much better at surviving out here than I am, even hurt as you are… I don’t want to slow you down…”

He plucked the pebble from my fingers and tossed it into the water before taking both my hands and making me look at him. “Without you, why would I even bother surviving?”

I bit my lip. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “I love you, Clara. Nothing has changed about that and nothing will change.”

A whimper made its way up my throat. He still loved me! Now was my moment to say it back!

I pressed a kiss to his jaw and moved towards his left ear, my lips hovering just above his chin. My heartbeat must be faster than it had been last night after killing that very first Walker. “I… I love you too,” I whispered.

Negan moved to kiss me and we both froze. Something big had just splashed into the water somewhere close.

We pulled apart and scanned our surrounding. “You know those fuckers?” Negan muttered, motioning downriver.

A big group of Walkers, too many to count, was on the other side of the river. Some had moved into the water downstream, some moved towards us on the riverbank. As I watched, one more tumbled off the bank and fell into the water. The current was too slow to pull it away, but it had trouble getting back to his feet.

Good. That would give us time.

“Can’t say I do.”

“Come on,” Negan said, struggling to get to his feet. He did his best not to let his pain show, but he couldn’t fool me.

I wordlessly propped him up so he could spare his injured hip.

He had found a longer stick and made a makeshift weapon slash crutch out of it. It made me feel like we were two cavemen, going out to hunt mammoths as I handed it to him; him with his spear, me with my club.

Fuck we were in such deep shit, it was bordering on ridiculous.

There were too many Walkers in the group to fight them off. Could we outrun them?

Somewhere farther away I heard a car. It was odd, hearing a sound that had been so familiar once and was so strange now.

Negan’s erstwhile captors were looking for him. Of course they were.

He slowed down, looking back where two Walkers had somehow made it to our side of the river.

What should we do? Which was the lesser evil? This was like deciding between plague and cholera.

I gripped Negan’s hand and squeezed it tight. No matter what he decided for, I would be with him all the way.

“You ready to fight?” he muttered, turning towards the Walkers. Three more were in the middle of the river, struggling against the current.

I nodded.

Negan let go of my hand and started moving. The Walkers didn’t slow down. Negan didn’t either. He stabbed the first one in the eye, pushed it off his stick in one smooth movement and turned to the second one before I had even made up my mind how to go against them.

I couldn’t help but be impressed. This was the kind of efficiency I could only dream of.

Negan bent down over the second Walker he’d stabbed and took something from him, wiping it on its clothes.

I realized it was a kitchen knife. Rusty in places, but Negan seemed to deem it sturdy enough and tenderly climbed down the riverbed to go against the next group.

A kitchen knife. Those Walkers used to be people. They had taken weapons with them before they had gone out. And now they were dead… undead.

And if I kept standing by and watching Negan, I would be next. Negan was injured. I couldn’t let him face all those Zombies by himself.

He had stabbed another one with his new weapon by the time I reached the edge of the water.

“Keep moving,” he called and I hurried to keep up with him.

I managed to take out the third of the water group and we kept on moving downriver, away from the car sounds, past the Walkers.

+++

Despite Negan’s limp that seemed to grow more pronounced with each minute, we outpaced the Walkers. There was no knowing how long he could keep up walking though.

Was this what our life would be like from now on? Cold, wet, hungry, running all the time?

Without realizing, I started to shiver. I was cold, but not from the outside. The sun had come out and was warming me up but my insides had turned to ice. I didn’t know how long I would be able to keep this up. Running… always and everywhere.

Hugging myself, I kept on walking. Scanning the surroundings, listening, watching. Suddenly the forest seemed full of dangers.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“South,” Negan courtly said. “Are you alright?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

+++

**A couple of days later**

We had made it out of the forests and found a small settlement.

Most of the houses were burned down but we found a small tool shed behind one of the ruins where we had made camp. From the shed, we could see the street while being able to remain hidden ourselves. It protected us from the wind, if not from cold and some of the tools would make for good weapons.

I had found a jacket that only vaguely smelled of mold and there even was some food in a couple of the houses and cellars we had inspected. Cans with the labels burned off, some fruit conserves, rice and noodles… Today’s cans had turned out to be tuna and tomatoes. I had dumped both into our one pot and put some rice and water to the mix before putting it over a small fire fed by pickets from the rotting fences all around town.

Negan had taken a turn for the worse. He rested inside the shed. His hip was bruised and swollen and he could barely move his leg. The bruises on his face and chest, thankfully, were slowly healing, seemingly without infection, but his hip had me worried.

I had frequent panic attacks that I mostly managed to hide from Negan. He had enough on his plate without my issues on top. My panic attacks I would survive. His leg… I didn’t have the slightest knowledge of medicine, and no matter how often I searched the bathrooms in all the houses, there were no meds to be found.

Sitting back, I let the food boil and looked up at the sky. Clouds had started approaching yesterday evening and it had been overcast all day today.

What would we do once winter came?

Without really noticing I started scratching my wrist again, where I could easily reach it with the jacket on. Only when the barely healed crust came off and my fingers came away wet with blood did I realize what I had done. Negan couldn’t see this. It upset him to see me hurting myself. It upset me too, but I couldn’t help it.

I bent forward to stir my boiling pot again before taking it off the flame and throwing some dirt on the fire to extinguish it. We hadn’t found any salt, so whatever I made tasted kind of bland, but it filled our stomachs and kept us fueled. Priorities!

Using the sleeves of my jacket as potholders, I carried the food into our shed.

It was small, barely long enough to let Negan stretch his legs but it kept us safe from the elements and we had a door we could close behind us.

I had started carrying a hammer with me wherever I went. It was heavy and I could carry it on my belt without injuring myself. It made bashing heads in almost enjoyable.

“Negan?” I muttered, gently sitting down next to him and placing my hand on his arm. “Dinner’s ready.”

He opened his eyes and looked around for a moment, seemingly confused.

“How do you feel?” I asked, letting my hand glide through his hair. His forehead was hot to the touch.

“Like fucking shit,” he answered. Holding on to me, he sat up with a groan, favoring his hip.

It pained me to see the man I had fallen in love with like this. All of his strength seemed to have left him. He had tired bags under his eyes and his skin was pale and clammy.

I wanted to cry with how helpless I felt.

Negan brushed my hair behind my ear and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.

I sighed contently.

A small voice inside my head muttered how he acted like that only because I was the one taking care of him and he needed me, but I pushed it away into the darkness. He loved me and that was it!

We ate and I massaged his hip a little and helped him move his leg around a bit, like we had started doing a couple of times a day. I wasn’t a physical therapist, but I figured some light movement would help the joint stay flexible. Without meds, it was the only thing I could do.

“Anything new outside?” Negan asked, looking towards the door where the sun slowly sank towards the horizon.

“I killed a couple of Walkers earlier and it’s probably going to start raining soon. No cars, no human activity.”

“Look at you,” Negan said. “Cook, therapist, lookout, bodyguard… and then there’s me, a big, fucking useless ball and chain on your ankle.

“Not true! It’s your job to keep up my spirits,” I muttered, moving against him and pulling his arm around me. “And you’ll be fine again in a couple of days. Then you get to be my bodyguard again.” I put my head on his shoulder to keep him from seeing the tears that had started filling my eyes.

I knew he felt like shit, but I didn’t have the energy to make him feel good about himself on top of everything else.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and held me.

I snuggled against him harder. That was what I needed from him: to give me the illusion of being my protector at least. I knew he would be better again and soon, but my illness didn’t seem to want to believe it. My illness told me everything would always stay like it was now: We would always be on the run and have to scurry for food and live in a fucking shed in a burnt down, dead village.

I sniffled.

“Why are you crying?” Negan asked, letting go of me enough so he could look me in the face.

“Just…” I wiped my nose on the back of my hand, “I don’t know…” It was easier to lie to him than to try to explain.

“You sure about that?”

I shook my head and moved against him again, burying my face in his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered, my voice muffled.

“You still have enough of your meds?” he continued.

“I got enough for two more weeks.” I said. I didn’t want to think about what would happen after that. I didn’t want things to get bad again… and even with meds I tended to feel worst during the cold, dark months of winter, so it would get bad one way or another.

“We’ll get you more,” Negan promised. “Come here.” He pulled me close and I buried my face against his neck.

Even in trying times like these, inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth made me feel easier. We would get through this. His leg would get better again, the fever would go away and we would find shelter and enough supplies to get through winter.

“We’ll move south,” Negan slowly said, obviously having thought about the same.

“And after that?”

“Who knows?” He shrugged against me. “We’ll make the best of it. Don’t worry.”

I put the dishes in one corner and took off my jacket before snuggling up with him. We had built a nest out of half burnt blankets and duvets from all over town. It was comfortable. Snuggling against him, it even was warm. I did my best not to think of the spiders and critters we probably shared our shelter with and focused on the sunset instead.

This was the one thing I looked forward to each day. Negan held me and kissed my neck. I played with his fingers and we simply enjoyed watching nature do its thing, dyeing the low hanging clouds in all imaginable shades from orange to purple while slowly vanishing behind the ruin on the opposite side of the street, painting the remaining bits black.

“You scratched yourself again,” Negan suddenly said, lifting my wrist up so he could inspect it properly.

I tried pulling back, but he held on to me. What should I say? He knew I did it. I knew he hated it.

“If it gets infected and you get sick too, we’ll be in deep shit,” he continued.

“I know…” I whispered, pulling away again. This time he let me.

“Next time you feel like doing it, you fucking tell me! You understand? I can still look out for you…”

I sniffled. I knew he didn’t mean to sound angry, but he did. And I hated it.

Negan went back to kissing my neck and I slowly relaxed again. “It’s just… all a bit much. I’m not used to living like this,” I whispered. It was easier telling him about this when I didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“I know…” Negan said, pushing up to his elbow so he could look down at me. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

I frowned at him. “How is this your fault? You weren’t the one who decided to attack us.”

“You could have gone live with them fuckers…”

“But I didn’t want to live with them! They’re too… soft.”

He snorted. “Believe me when I tell you they aren’t.”

“But… if I had gone with them… I wouldn’t be with you!” I sniffled and focused back on the setting sun. It was almost gone. “You… you’re the first person in my life who ever made me feel wanted. Like I was… someone!” I wiped my eyes. I was crying again.

Negan tightened his hold on me, silently signaling he was there and wouldn’t let me go. “I should have killed that fucker Felix when I had the chance.” he said. “Fucking you up like this… making you feel worthless… I would have made it slow and painful…” He balled his fist against me.

“Let’s not go there just now,” I whispered, putting my hand around his fist and forcing him to open it back up before I turned around so I faced him and buried my face against his chest.

I was safe with him. Felix didn’t matter anymore.

+++

It had rained during the night and everything was damp, but the clouds were gone and the sun was coming out again.

There was one particular bird that started twittering the moment the sun rose each and every day, that woke me up like clockwork. It made me crazy while Negan claimed he couldn’t even hear it.

Dreams of Uncle Felix and Walkers and Uncle Felix as a Walker had woken me up again and again during the night and I knew with the fucking bird there was no more sleeping for me today.

I carefully freed myself from Negan’s embrace and tucked the blanket around him again. He rolled over and gave a long drawn groan but didn’t wake up. His forehead didn’t feel as hot as it had yesterday. I chose to take that as a good sign.

Putting on my jacket, I made a round outside, checking our perimeter for Walkers or human activity.

That finished, I went for a wash and to get some water from the small creek that conveniently flowed right behind the house our shed belonged to.

Something moved somewhere behind me and I froze. The creek flowed on the bottom of a ditch and I was almost completely hidden by it when I crouched down. Up to that moment I had hated that fact. Now I was glad for it.

I stuck my head out just enough to see three Walkers coming towards me. Fast. Where had they come from?

Rolling my eyes, I made my way out of the trench, leaving my bowl by the water, and moved towards them… only to realize I hadn’t brought my hammer. Shit.

I moved backwards, away from them. Suddenly there were two more Walkers to my right, on the other side of the creek, on the side Negan was.

“Negan!” I shouted, not caring about the noise. There were five Walkers on my heels already, how many more could there be? “NEGAN!”

Jumping back over the rivulet, I ran back to our shed where our weapons waited. The grass was moist with morning dew and I slipped as I ran, but made it on my own two feet.

“Alarm!” I shouted again and was glad to see movement at our shed.

It was another Walker. Where the fuck had all of them come from, when I had just made sure there weren’t any not ten minutes ago?

The Walker by the shed dropped dead and Negan’s head appeared at the door. He was on his feet, the stilt he had been hammering nails into for the past two days in his hands, dripping with blood.

“Five back there,” I shouted, pointing to where I had come from.

“Three over there,” Negan countered, pointing behind me. He handed me a broom stick, both of which’s ends he had sharpened to points and started moving towards the three Walkers he had pointed at, heavily favoring his injured hip.

The fact he was able to walk around and even with some speed filled me with unimaginable joy, despite the danger. He was getting better.

I swiftly moved back to my group of two and dealt with the first. I wasn’t half as efficient as Negan. Each kill for me was an effort that took all my strength, all my focus and much too much time. I needed to assess the best point of action, focus, actively gather my guts and then attack. Pulling the broom stick back out took me another couple of seconds which made groups very dangerous opponents for me.

The second Walker was much too close for comfort by the time I was done with the first. The long, awkward broom stick didn’t make things any better.

I gathered all my strength and stabbed the second one upwards through his jaw.

Pulling out my makeshift spear, I turned to check on Negan and froze.

A car had just stopped on the street in front of our house. A shotgun was pointed at Negan from the passenger side window and the driver was getting out.

Three dead Walkers and his makeshift club lay by Negan’s feet, his hands up in the air.

Fighting my two Walkers had brought me close to the one remaining wall of the house and I stayed there, pressing against it, watching the men. The two newcomers hadn’t yet seen me and I didn’t plan on changing that.

The three Walkers from the back had tumbled into the trench and were struggling to get back out. There was no danger from their side for the moment and their noises would mask any sound I made… or at least I hoped they would.

“You really thought you could run from us?” the man with the shotgun said getting out of the car himself, while his friend trained some kind of rifle on Negan.

Negan shrugged, hands lifted over his shoulders. “Can’t blame me for trying, eh?”

“But we will blame you for killing two of our people and injuring three more!”

I slowly moved around the house, making it towards the street, following the parts of the walls that were still standing all around the house. Somehow I made it behind our enemies without them noticing me. The last stretch of my way, I was fresh out of cover though.

Negan had spotted me. The two others hadn’t.

He let his hands sink to his sides and walked a couple of slow, measured steps, drawing their attention from me, seemingly completely at ease.

“Stop moving!” Shotgun ordered. He was the one closer to me. If I could just get behind him, I would… I didn’t know what I’d do with him exactly. The only thing I knew was I wouldn’t let them take Negan away from me again, whatever the cost.

The cost might be killing a human, I realized. Was I really capable of doing that? Walkers were one thing, but humans?

“I would, if you stopped pointing that fucking shotgun at me. It’s unsettling,” Negan countered.

“Don’t like it as much when you’re on the receiving end, huh?”

“Can’t say I do, no.” Negan stopped and faced them again. He had moved far enough so I could sneak towards them from behind.

I stopped thinking about what I was supposed to do and just did.

Carefully moving towards them, not even daring to breathe, I gripped my broomstick tight. If I just told myself this was Uncle Felix before me…

My jaw started shaking and my teeth wanted to chatter. This was my one chance. I could give my uncle back everything he had done to me. Every small nastiness, every hit, every single time he had raped me and made me feel like it had been my fault afterwards.

I lifted my weapon up high and put all my weight into it as I smacked the guy before me on the shoulder.

Of fucking course I would miss fucking now when both Negan’s and my life were on stake.

Fucking hell!

My would-be victim turned around and pulled up his shotgun, pointing it straight at me. My broomstick was already lifted up over my head again though and I brought it down on his forehead in the same second he pulled the trigger.

The shot was so loud, it momentarily deafened me.

Had he hit me? I wasn’t sure.

I didn’t care.

I smacked him again and again, convincing myself it was Uncle Felix before me more and more with every hit.

He went down to the ground but managed to point his shotgun upwards and at me once more. I was beyond caring. This was my chance for revenge and I would take it.

He pulled the trigger and I felt something go past me to my left.

That had been his second shot. His weapon was nothing but an overrated broomstick now and we both knew it. His eyes met mine and he tried getting to his feet once more, but my anger gave me the edge I needed. In this moment, this was no stranger on the ground before me.

It was my uncle who had misused me for years, even encouraged his son, my own cousin to do the same on more than one occasion to the point that he still haunted me, years after the fact.

Lifting my broomstick up overhead once more I stepped over him and stabbed downwards, through his stomach.

Stabbing a human was different than stabbing a Walker. It was harder. There was way more resistance, but that didn’t stop me. Blood quelled out around my weapon and my victim’s eyes stared up at me, wide, shiny, unmoving.

I let go of my broomstick and stepped to the side, kicking every part of him I could reach until my toes hurt before going down on top of him and punching his face.

Someone was screaming. Must be Negan’s guy.

Or not.

Someone touched me on the shoulder and I jumped to my feet, fists up and ready to attack before I realized it was Negan… and closed my mouth. The screaming stopped. Huh?

“Shhh… It’s over, Clara,” he said and tried pulling me away from my victim. “Can’t kill him twice.”

Or maybe I could. Shotgun was coming back. Of course he would come back. I pushed away from Negan and went towards my victim again. Pinned to the ground by my broomstick, his arms reached towards us and he gripped my leg, opening his mouth wide.

I didn’t think twice and stomped on his face with my free foot. Hard. Fast. Often.

“Hot damn!” Negan said when I finally grew tired and stepped away. “That was some fucking vicious shit if I ever saw any.”

I looked down at my victim. Nothing but a bloody mess was left of his head and my shoe was wet again. Damn, I really needed to get some leather boots.

My knuckles were bloody.

I didn’t know how much of it was my own.

Shotgun had been alive minutes before and now he wasn’t.

Because of me!

I had just killed a human being. I looked up at Negan and my vision blurred. What had I just done?

“It’s alright,” Negan said and put his arms around me. His guy lay limply by the car, his chest heaving and falling. Knocked out, not dead.

I had forgotten that had been an option.

My arms and legs started shaking and I was glad for Negan holding me upright.

“I gotta admit, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you to survive out here, but damn… you just proved me SO fucking wrong,” he whispered, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

I wanted to laugh, but my voice was gone.

“Come on, let’s get our shit and get out of here.”

+++

**5 years later**

“That one big enough for you?”

I looked up from digging in the dirt. Negan, clad in only a low seating pair of loose sitting pants and nothing else, was coming back up our dock, proudly showing off the fish had just caught, still dangling from his fishing line.

And what a fish it was; about as long as his upper body it would feed us for days.

I wiped my hands on my shorts and jogged towards him. “Yes! Why can’t you catch one like that every day?” I went up on tiptoe and kissed him.

“Because then you wouldn’t be as impressed with me when I do. Don’t want to spoil you,” he replied, beaming with pride.

“I will always be impressed with you!”

He put his free arm around me and we went towards our small cottage where he placed the fish on the table out back we used to clean whatever we managed to shoot or catch that particular week.

“And how will you show me just how impressed you are?” He turned me towards him again and kissing me, lifted me up off my feet as if I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around him and kissed him back, just as deeply, immensely enjoying how he refrained from wearing shirts on those especially hot summer days.

“I’ll show you on the couch.” I grinned.

He carried me up the steps onto the porch and in through the door. The limp a particularly hard beating had caused him a couple years ago had never fully left him, but it didn’t disturb either of us overly much. He was strong as ever.

He dropped me on the creaky old couch and pushed me to my back, climbing on top of me, kissing his way down from my mouth to my ear and neck.

I wrapped my legs around him again and pulled him down on top of me. The familiar bulge in his pants made me sigh with desire.

He was taking his time, kissing my neck, carefully moving downwards over my left clavicle.

I shook my head. This was going far too slow.

“What?” he asked, noticing my dissatisfaction.

“Let me…” I awkwardly moved out from under him and motioned for him to lie down.

A broad grin appeared on his face. “That impressed, huh?” He did as I’d ordered and put his hands behind his neck, watching me as I hastily pulled my tank top over my head. The small scar on my waist, where a piece of a shotgun blast had hit me years ago strained with the movement. I couldn’t care less.

“Well,” I half shrugged. “Impressed and horny.”

Chuckling, Negan watched me pull my pants down and climb on top of him in my underwear.

His laughter died when I unbuttoned his pants and reached inside and was replaced by a low groan when I found his dick and let my fingers slide over it. “Fuck, I love you so much,” he muttered and half sat up so he could reach me and pull me down for a kiss.

“I love you too,” I whispered against his mouth and moved downwards again. Over the years, I had become completely comfortable with him. Nothing I could do to him ever felt wrong. Nothing he could ever do to me felt bad. We were safe with each other. We loved each other.

I pulled his pants down just far enough so I was able to free him and let my tongue slide over his length once, watching his face.

The expression on his face was one of pure bliss, beautiful to watch each and every single time, but sucking his dick wasn’t what I had in mind. I wanted more than that. I needed more than that today.

His hands went down again, wandering around me and unhooking my bra.

Grinning, I looked up at him and let it slide down my arms, moving up for another kiss.

I could never get enough of kissing him. I had never expected to ever be able to love anyone that much, but life showed me just how able I was every single day.

Negan reached down on my body and pushed my panties down over my hips.

I slipped them off all the way and went back on top of him, enjoying his sight before me, this gorgeous male, strong and hard, yet soft where it counted.

Letting my fingernails slide over his chest, I lined myself up with him and carefully lowered down, taking all of him inside me.

I closed my eyes to fully be able to enjoy the sensation of him filling me up completely, of him moaning with me, of his hands on my hips.

We moved together, finding our rhythm, enjoying each other’s bodies, reveling in each other’s love and adoration.

His hair and beard had gone mostly gray with age. The tattoos on his chest and arm had faded with the sun and were almost one with his dark tan. I wasn’t as young as I had used to be either. Things sat lower down on my body than they used to. Wrinkles had started appearing on my skin.

None of that mattered.

Our love didn’t wither. Neither did our desire for each other.

Only the two of us counted. Being here, being together, being alive.

We took life one day at a time, surviving whatever it threw at us.

I wanted him so much! I could already feel myself tighten around him, losing control over my body as my toes cramped. Negan felt it too and took over the lead, holding on to my hips, steadying me.

“Cum for me,” he whispered and his thrusts became slower but harder.

“You first,” I whimpered, half collapsing on top of him already.

He uttered one bark of laughter before closing his eyes and changing his angle.

I had become pregnant once over the years, but lost it early on. Ever since that, we had stopped worrying about contraception and focused on enjoying instead. Whatever would happen would happen. We would stay together through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, until death, or undeath, more likely, would us part.

And that was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for staying with me, you guys! I hope you enjoyed reading all of this as much as I enjoyed writing it... let me know if you like the ending I've come up with! I for one am very satisfied with it. They find their peace with each other, in this fucked up world they live in.


End file.
